Don't Abuse Me
by Neon Blur
Summary: Based on The Runaways.  Joan and Cherie   Kristen and Dakota
1. Chapter 1  Hotel

**A/N I'm trying to capture the characters as I kind of interpreted them through the movie/Cherie's book "Neon Angel"/real life...or, how I see it. Anything I write is not necessarily my personal opinion...just part of the story. Please review! Thanks!**

CHAPTER ONE

Joan stood in front of the sleazy motel they had just pulled into for the night. Her worn, black duffel bag slumped over her shoulder, lifeless. She was tired, achy, and a little strung out. Her stomach lurched as she walked ahead of the other girls, waiting to see what pleasant accommodations they managed to swing this time.

As usual, the room was too small for all five of them but it was something they had grown accustomed to. Joan prayed that she didn't lose their ritual game of rock paper scissors for the beds. She had slept on the floor before and it was far from an enjoyable sleep. She threw her bag down in the corner, slumping in the ragged chair by the window. Cherie sat on the bed facing her, a similar look of dissatisfaction on her face. Joan shoved a piece of gum in her mouth and offered one to Cherie, but she declined. She chewed it slowly, hoping it would keep her awake for a little longer. Lita stormed in with Sandy and Jackie in tow and Joan's eyes dragged over to the familiar look of outrage on Lita's face.

"What the fuck?" she yelled. "Fucking Scott gets a fucking room to himself and we have to live like goddamn gophers in this place!" she threw her bag on one of the beds and stormed off down the hall.

"Well, I ain't sleepin in his room," Sandy said.

"Cherie will," Jackie said under her breath and Joan shot her a threatening look. Cherie slumped over and sighed. She was exhausted, but they all were. That was life on the road.

"Do you have anything, Joanie?" Cherie asked, loud enough for only Joan to here.

Joan swallowed, shaking her head slightly.

Cherie winced as if she was in pain. She rolled over slightly. "Sandy," she whined.

Sandy looked over at her, glanced quickly at Joan who shook her head, then looked back at Cherie. Cherie needed sleep, not drugs.

"Do you have anything?" Cherie asked again.

Sandy shrugged. "Sorry, blondie. I'm dry too."

Cherie pushed her head against the pillow and put her hands over her face. "Fucking fuck," she groaned.

"Scott probably has something," Jackie offered. Sandy and Joan both shot her a look that told her to shut up. "But, he might not," she added quickly.

"I can't even move," Cherie said, curling up on the bed. Joan put a hand on her head. "It will be okay," she whispered.

Joan looked up at Sandy and nodded towards the door. Sandy understood Joan and Cherie more than anyone else in the band and she motioned to Jackie who reluctantly walked out of the room with her, shooting Cherie a dirty look.

"It hurts, Joanie," Cherie moaned. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, pulling her legs closer to her chest. She looked so young, so fragile, like a little kid with the stomach flu. Joan crawled into the bed beside her, wrapping her arm over her carefully. She knew this feeling. It was like your muscles were fighting against you and your insides were aching for the only thing you knew you shouldn't have. It was awful, even crippling at times. Cherie seemed to get it the worst. All the girls pushed their limits with the pills and the booze, but Cherie seemed to be the one who took it too far sometimes. And now it was biting her in the ass.

"It's okay," Joan said softly. "It will go away," she stroked Cherie's soft, blonde hair, twisting her fingers in it gently.

"No it won't," she cried. "It won't go away. I just need one pill. That's it. Then I can sleep."

Joan sighed, knowing this feeling of desperation so well.

"Just try without it, Cherie. I'm here," Joan cooed, wanting so badly to comfort her. She felt responsible for Cherie, like she had to take care of her. The two of them were nearly inseparable, best friends. Maybe more.

Joan kissed Cherie's neck softly, hoping that maybe it would distract her, even if just for a moment. Cherie responded, moving her head slightly. Joan pressed tighter against her and kissed her again, her tongue tracing circles on her warm skin. Cherie moaned softly and Joan felt a wave of desire wash over her. She slid her hand over Cherie, tucking it underneath her arms, hinting at what she wanted. Cherie moved her arm to rest sideways on Joan's leg as her hips grinded back into Joan's.

"Does this feel good?" Joan asked, slipping her hand under Cherie's tight tshirt.

Cherie's breathing quickened and she nodded slightly, unable to speak. Her body hurt, it ached for the haziness of the drugs, but Joan's touch made it all feel better. She turned to face Joan, their lips crashing together. Cherie tasted the cinnamon flavour of Joan's gum and stole it out of her mouth with her tongue. Joan giggled. Cherie pulled the gum out of her mouth with her fingers and dropped it on the table beside them. Joan pressed her lips against Cherie's again, their tongues sliding across each other. They both moaned, grabbing at each other, the familiar sensation of each other's hands on their skin made Joan feel happy and Cherie feel safe. As long as she was with Joan, she would be okay.

Cherie let out a long, stuttering breath as Joan made her feel infinite for the second time in a row. Joan, being a meticulous guitarist, was good with her hands, making her, in Cherie's opinion, a fantastic lover. Joan's sticky skin pressed against Cherie's and she too gasped as Cherie touched her in all the right ways.

"Fucking fuck," Joan breathed, rolling over. Cherie tangled her fingers in between Joan's and smiled.

"I feel better, Joanie," she whispered against Joan's skin.

Joan moaned. "Me too."

They laid there for a minute before Joan leaned over the bed and grabbed their pile of clothes, suspecting the other girls would barge in here any minute. They dressed lazily and sat up on the bed, lighting cigarettes. Joan pushed her peppery hair off her face, feeling slightly buzzed from the nicotine. When she hadn't eaten in awhile, it always made her head feel fuzzy. Cherie blew smoke rings through her cherry red lips and Joan poked her finger through them. She picked up her gum from the table and shoved it back in her mouth.

"That's gross," Cherie said, blowing smoke in Joan's face.

"Fuck it," Joan growled.

Cherie rested her head on Joan's shoulder who wrapped her arm around her shallow shoulders. They sat there quietly smoking. In this very moment, they were both content and still, nothing on their minds except the feeling of each other's warmth and the cloud of smoke that surrounded them.

There was a knock on the door and then it quickly swung open, Lita yelling, "You better not be fucking!" as she marched into the room. They both looked up and a smile played on their lips, as they thought about the moments that had preceded this one.

"Smells like they were," Sandy said making a face.

"Fuck you," Joan said, laughing.

Lita ruffled through her bag and pulled out a nearly full bottle of vodka.

"Who's interested?" she asked, shaking it playfully. Jackie and Sandy both shot their hands in the air. Joan held her cigarette in her mouth, raising her free hand slightly.

Cherie groaned. "Is that all you got in there?" she asked.

"Take it or leave it, honey," Lita barked. "This ain't gonna happen often."

Cherie sighed and raised her hand as well. Joan cupped her hand around Cherie's arm and pulled her tightly against her, before moving to sit closer to the other girls. Cherie crawled next to her and they sat, their feet dangling over the side of the bed. They passed the bottle around, each making the same disgusted face after each sip. The booze hit their empty stomachs hard and Joan began to feel a little dizzy. She got up and put her mouth under the bathroom tap, drinking the water quickly. She stumbled back into the room and sat back down, trying to focus.

"Shit," she said, lying backwards on the bed. She folded her arms over her stomach, fighting the nauseous feeling that was washing over her.

"Are you okay?" Sandy asked, shaking Joan's knee.

"Mmmhmm," she replied, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Are you gonna puke?" she asked slowly.

The mere mention of the word made her stomach lurch and she shot up off the bed, dashing to the bathroom, making it just in time to throw up all the vodka she had just forced down her throat. She groaned and slid against the tub beside her. It felt instantly better but she knew that it wasn't going to be the last time. She sat there waiting for that awful wave to crash over her again.

Cherie stumbled into the doorway and peered down at her.

"You alright, Joanie?" she knelt down beside her.

"No," Joan croaked.

Cherie sat down next to her, much as Joan had done with her so many times before. Joan put her head in her hands, waiting for that feeling to come back. She felt Cherie's tiny hand on her shoulder and she leaned against it.

"I wish we had something to fucking eat," Joan growled.

"I can go find something," Cherie offered.

"Where?" Joan asked.

"Gas station next door."

"You don't have any money, Cherie."

"Doesn't matter," she whispered and stood up, stumbling against the door frame.

It wouldn't be the first time they'd stolen food. Far from it.

"Ask Scott if he has any money," Joan managed to get out before she leapt forward, arching over the toilet, another round of bile flooding from her mouth.

Cherie bent down and patted her on the back. "Don't worry, Joanie. I'll get you something."

And with that she waltzed out of the bathroom and Joan heard the room door close loudly. She groaned, kicking the bathroom door shut to muffle out the sound of the other girls' laughter. She slumped against the tub again, her head falling backwards and waited for Cherie to come back and make her feel better. At times like this, she was the only one who could.


	2. Chapter 2  That's rock and roll

CHAPTER 2

The girls could hear the crowd yelling from backstage and they felt a surge of energy rush through them. They had all just popped pills that Scott managed to find about 30 minutes ago and they each had a very similar gentle grin plastered across their faces. Cherie swayed slightly, bumping into Joan who nudged her. They looked at each other and giggled, feeling light headed. This didn't feel like the stuff they usually took – Quaaludes and other minor killers. This felt intense, like it was coursing through their whole bodies instead of just rushing to their heads. Joan looked down at her hands and saw them shaking slightly. She laughed, even though a rush of panic swept through her. She picked up her guitar and slung it over her shoulder. She gripped the neck hard but it felt foreign in her hands, which scared her.

"Shit, Cherie," Joan hissed, getting her attention. She looked over at her hazily.

"I can't play this," Joan said, shaking her guitar.

The girls marched forward, heading on stage and Joan panicked. It was an intense feeling, like the whole world was about to come crashing down.

Cherie looked over at the stage and then turned around and marched in her high heels and corset over to Joan, getting right into her face.

"Yes you can. Because you are Joan fucking Jett and you can do anything," she turned quickly and held her arm out for Joan to go before her, as she always did. Joan jumped in place and shook her hair. _Yeah,_ Joan thought. _I can do fucking anything._ Joan ran on stage, hearing Cherie's heels clucking behind her and she felt powerful, infinite, invincible.

The show passed by in a blur of colour and noise. Everything seemed slow motion and then super speed and then slow motion again. Joan was shocked that she even remembered how to play, but she was born to do this. It was in her blood, mixing around with whatever it was that she had taken tonight. She felt on top of the world again, the highest she had ever been. Cherie swung the microphone around her leg in her signature move and threw her head back laughing, feeling the power of the audience, all their eyes locked on her young, slender, exposed body. She felt like nothing could hurt her, nothing could stop her. It was the greatest feeling in the world. For the grand finale they sang "Dead End Justice" and Lita pretended to shoot Cherie with her guitar. Cherie dramatically flung herself around the stage, splattering fake blood against herself. Joan felt some splatter on her face, onto her lips. She licked it and it tasted like corn syrup. She laughed, watching as Cherie fell to her knees in one last hurrah, slamming down face first on the stage. The audience went wild and the lights flickered off. Joan unplugged her guitar and ran to Cherie, helping her up, while the other girls scattered off stage. Cherie threw her arm around Joan's neck and yelled in her ear.

"Fucking amazing!"

Joan smiled sideways at her and they followed the girls back stage. The dim back room was dingy and unappealing, but they all slumped around, still high from the performance and the pills. Joan's whole body buzzed and she looked down at her hands, noticing something glossy and red. She had split open several of her fingers but felt nothing.

"Shit," she said slowly, a smirk crawling across her lips. "How fucking rock and roll is this?" She sucked the blood off of her middle finger and wagged her tongue in Cherie's face. Cherie grabbed Joan's hand and licked one of her bloody fingers. Joan cocked her head and the other girls shouted.

"That's fuckin gross, man" Sandy said.

"That's how you get motherfucking GRID you know," Lita said, disgusted.

"That's not how you get GRID," Joan spat back at her.

"What's GRID?" Cherie asked innocently, wiping her lips.

"It's a fuckin blood disease that kills you. When you share blood that's how you get it. And if you're queer," Lita said matter-of-factly.

Cherie's face fell and she looked over at Joan who rolled her eyes. "What are you, a fuckin doctor now?" she said, wiping her hand on her shirt. She turned back to Cherie. "That's not how you get it," she said.

"Yes it is," Lita spat back. "Who the fuck licks other people's blood anyway? That's fuckin sick."

"Shut up, Lita," Joan said defiantly. "She was just messin around, alright? Right Cherie?"

Cherie nodded quickly.

"Whatever," Lita snarled. She picked up her guitar and started restringing it, knowing damn well that despite it being his job, Scott wasn't going to do it for her.

Cherie leaned into Joan, her eyes glassy and unfocussed. Joan smiled her special smile that Cherie noticed was different from when she smiled at the others. Joan made her feel special and she never wanted to do anything to ruin that. She got that fluttery feeling in her stomach and felt her head swimming. Partly it was the drugs, and goddamn it were these good drugs, but the other part was just the way she always felt around Joan. As long as Joan was there, she didn't have to worry so much. Joan always took care of her.

Later that night, after passing a bottle of dirt cheap vodka around, Joan and Cherie snuck off, initially intending to just catch some fresh air, but ended up pressed against each other on the wall outside their motel room. Feeling too obvious, and very drunk, they crawled into the backseat of the station wagon that was also known as their tour bus. Cherie lied on top of Joan, giggling, grinding her slender hips into Joan's. Both of their heads were spinning and they laughed as Cherie rolled off the seat, getting stuck on the floor of the car. Joan pulled her back up, still laughing. She lit two cigarettes and they sat there smoking for a minute. Joan flicked her cigarette out the window and shoved a piece of gum in her mouth. She wrapped her arm around Cherie, who snuggled into her side. Joan liked the feeling of Cherie in her arms. It wasn't always a sexual thing; she liked knowing she could take care of her, look out for her. She liked that Cherie trusted her. But, there were things going on in Cherie's head that Joan knew she could never figure out, and wasn't sure if she even wanted to. Sometimes Cherie looked at her and there seemed to be a million things flashing behind her sweet, blue eyes. She seemed so innocent and yet so jaded all at the same time. Joan softly brushed the golden hair out of Cherie's face and smiled. She liked just sitting here with her, not having to say anything. Cherie just understood her, and she understood Cherie. There was so much they could say to each other with just one glance; an exchange between her warm brown eyes and Cherie's baby blues could be like a whole conversation.

"I think I'm coming down," Cherie said airily, blowing smoke into the cool, night air. She flicked her cigarette out the window.

"Yeah, me too," Joan said huskily, feeling suddenly very drained.

"What goes up must come down," Cherie mused, slumping sideways against the car door.

Joan pulled her back towards her, guiding her head into her lap. "Lie down," she said, stroking Cherie's blonde hair, which stuck to her face from the humidity. Joan gently pushed it out of the way and looked down at Cherie whose glassy eyes drooped hazily. Joan sighed and leaned her head back, slouching slightly. She also closed her eyes and felt her deep breathing and the warmth of Cherie pulling her into much needed sleep.

Sandy knocked on the window of the car, surprised to see Joan and Cherie slumped over in the back seat, but also relieved. When they hadn't come back to the room last night, she had started to worry. Joan stirred slightly and peeled open her eyes, looking over at Sandy who made a face at her through the window.

"Morning, sunshine!" she said.

Joan stretched and shook Cherie's shoulders. She felt every muscle tense and instantly regretting sleeping in the car all night. She was stiff and hung over. Cherie rubbed her eyes sleepily and looked up and Joan.

"What time is it?" she croaked, sitting up.

"No clue," Joan replied, yawning.

Sandy flicked her cigarette on the asphalt and knocked on the window again.

"You bitches have like 10 minutes to get ready. We are out of here." She smiled and strutted back up the walkway.

"Shit," Joan said, opening the door. "We better get back in there and grab our stuff before Lita throws a fit."

Cherie groaned. "Joanie," she said. Joan looked into the car and grabbed Cherie's arm, helping her out.

"Alright?" she asked, lighting a cigarette.

Cherie nodded, squinting in the sunlight. She threw her arm around Joan's shoulders and they stumbled back into the room to collect their things.

/

They drove down the highway, the windows open and the warm breeze filtering through the car. They'd been driving for a couple of hours and still had a distance to go.

"Dude, seriously, you have got to pull over," Sandy barked at Scott as they drove.

"We are already behind. You're gonna have to hold it," he said in a monotone.

"Hold it? Til when? I have to take a piss _now_." She grabbed between her legs.

"We can't stop," Scott argued.

"I'm gonna piss my fucking pants, man!"

"Pull over, Scott," Joan said calmly.

"No."

"Pull the fucking car over, Scott," Lita chimed in. Scott looked over at her and she had a glare on that nobody wanted to fuck with.

He sighed and finally obliged, pulling over on the highway. Sandy scrambled out of the car, and quickly pulled down her pants, so desperate to go that she didn't care if the entire freeway saw. Joan and Cherie climbed out too, standing beside her to block the view from oncoming traffic.

Joan lit a cigarette, smiling to herself. She stood there hunched over slightly in her familiar stance, her aviator sunglasses hiding her tired eyes. Cherie took the cigarette from Joan's hand and took a long drag, holding the smoke in her mouth before blowing it out again. Joan watched her from the corner of her eye, admiring the way the sun bounced off her golden hair.

"If anyone else has to go, now is the time. You'll literally have to piss yourself, 'cause I ain't stopping again." Scott shouted from inside the car.

Sandy pulled up her pants, a huge grin on her face. "That was better than sex," she said, climbing back in the car.

"Then you've been doin' it wrong," Cherie said, making Joan and Jackie laugh. Joan and Cherie exchanged a look and Joan saw her cheeks go red. She put her arm around the back of Cherie's seat and tapped Scott on the shoulder.

"Let's rock and roll," she said, her cigarette hanging from her mouth.


	3. Chapter 3 Japan

CHAPTER 3

"Joanie, I've got some big news. Big. Huge!" Kim Fowely's voice boomed over the phone.

"What is it?" Joan asked, smacking gum in her mouth.

"You bitches are going to be bigger than the Beatles. You hear me? I, being the master of connection, the wizard of hype, the king hysteria himself, happen to know that The Runaways are the biggest thing to hit the shores of Japan since, well, since the motherfucking nuclear bomb. And thanks to me, you dogfuckers are going there to melt their faces with your awesome sound and your raging hormones!" he growled, clearly pleased with himself.

"Japan?" Joan said, her mouth falling open.

"Motherfuckin' Japan! I hope you like sake, because you are going to be drinking the best fuckin' sake those Japs can serve, alright? You better let the other girls know. I'll get back to you soon. Ciao, Joanie." And with that he hung up, leaving Joan speechless on the other side of the line.

Everything was happening so quickly. Three weeks ago, they had signed a record deal with a major producer and now they were flying across the world on tour in Japan. Joan jumped on the bed shouting, throwing her hands in the air. She leapt off and threw herself through the door, barrelling down the hallway and out into the courtyard where the other girls were smoking cigarettes and arguing about god knows what.

"Guys, guys!" Joan said, out of breath. She leaned over, resting her hands on her knees.

"What's up?" Sandy asked.

"I just got off the phone with Kim and you'll never believe it. That Frankenstein motherfucker got us a roundtrip ticket to Japan. Fucking Japan!"

The girls all exchanged excited looks and Cherie threw her arms around Joan.

"When are we leaving?" she asked excitedly.

"I don't know yet. He's gonna get it all organized and let us know. But, soon. Like really soon."

Joan noticed the huge smile that was spread across Lita's face and she realized that it wasn't something she got to see everyday. It felt good to be the bearer of good news. They had done it. They really were rock stars.

Two weeks later they found themselves shifting restlessly in the seats aboard an Air Japan flight to Tokyo. Joan bounced her leg, snapping gum in her mouth trying to avoid her ears from popping. They had all taken a couple Quaaludes to calm them down before the flight, but those wore off somewhere around the 5 hour mark. Joan had snuck a small baggie of pills down the front of her pants and she pulled her jacket over her lap, inconspicuously reaching in and pulling it out.

"Hey," she whispered to Cherie, opening her palm under the jacket.

Cherie glanced hazily down at Joan's hand and a tiny grin played on her lips. She nodded and Joan slipped two dark pills into her hand. She grabbed the rest and got up, handing them out to the other girls, Scott had his own. She sat back down and threw two into the back of her mouth, swallowing them dry. She put her head back against the seat and waited for the weightless, carefree feeling to wash over her. Cherie slid her tiny hand into Joan's, interlocking their fingers as she too waited for the familiar haze of being high. It had been a very long flight and they were all anxious, but the Quaaludes set a mellow cloud over their heads, slowing their heartbeats and keeping them calm. Joan closed her eyes and had a fuzzy dream of Japan, imagining its beauty and its strangeness and she smiled at the feeling of being in a new land, full of possibilities, full of promise.

Joan burst into the hotel room, her jaw dropping quickly, her gum almost tumbling right out. The room was massive – not at all what she was used to. The most glorious part is that she only had to share it with one other person – not four. It had a mini bar and a TV, a couch and a desk. She drew back the sliding wooden doors to reveal another section of the room that had a massive King sized bed in it. She walked in and saw a red, silk kimono hanging in the closet to her right. It was magnificent. This was more like it!

She threw her bags down on the floor and crawled on to the bed, spreading out and feeling the greatness of the moment. Cherie came stumbling in after her, her bags hanging off of her tiny frame like boulders. Joan leapt up and took one off of her skinny shoulders and placed it gently on the floor.

"Roommates?" Joan asked.

Cherie smiled. "Of course." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of pills. "Scott," she said, noticed the look of curiosity on Joan's face.

Joan smiled. There was a few dark Quaaludes, at least one morphine pill, which Joan never took because it made her too strung out, and a couple others she didn't recognize.

"Up or down?" Cherie said in her sultry voice.

"Down girl," Joan said hoarsely. She grabbed the Quaaludes and put one in her mouth, holding the other one in front of Cherie's full lips. She parted them, letting Joan slip the pill onto her tongue and closed her lips around them. Joan slid the fingers slowly out of Cherie's wet mouth and smiled crookedly. Cherie shoved the pills back into her pocket, her eyes locked on Joan's.

"Come here," Joan said, grabbing Cherie's hand. They stood very close together, their bodies touching only slightly. Cherie could smell the familiar cinnamon flavour of Joan's gum and it made her want to taste it. Cherie dragged her fingers gently up Joan's arm, giving her goosebumps. Joan placed her hands on Cherie's slender hips, wrapping her fingers around them. She smelled soft, feminine. Joan loved how Cherie smelled – it was comforting. She cocked her head slightly to the side, her eyes darting between Cherie's lips and her intense, blue eyes.

"Ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb," Joan whispered, making Cherie giggle. They pressed together and kissed softly, sending shivers down Joan's back. Cherie draped her arms over Joan's shoulder, feeling her toned, masculine frame press against her. She liked how Joan was gentle with her because her experiences with men had been less than tender. Joan always made her feel like what they were doing was right, even though so people probably thought it wasn't. It felt right to be with Joan, but Cherie knew that it wasn't anything more than sex. They were friends, band mates, and they just happened to be sexually attracted to each other. She wasn't _in_ love with Joan, nor was Joan in love with Cherie, but they did love each other. They cared about each other very much, and Cherie knew that Joan was the only reason she was there in the first place, and the only reason she stuck around.

Cherie felt the hazy wave of the drugs flow through her and she motioned toward the bed, needing to sit down. Joan pulled her down on top of her, wrapping her arms around her, just wanting to feel Cherie's warmth. Cherie kissed Joan's neck, rocking her hips in Joan's hands. A deep moan rumbled in Joan's throat and Cherie smiled against her skin. She liked making Joan feel good. She ran her hands up Joan's body, feeling her toughness, her strength. Joan looked tough on the outside, but Cherie knew that Joan was the most gentle, caring person she had probably ever met and she was the closest thing to a best friend she had away from home. She pulled at Joan's tight tshirt, slipping her hands underneath it and over the curves of her body.

"Shit, Cherie," Joan breathed, her eyes shut tight. She put her hand on Cherie's face and kissed her, sliding her tongue in her mouth.

"You taste like cinnamon," Cherie said, smiling.

"Sorry," Joan mumbled, pulling her gum out of her mouth.

"It's okay, I like it," Cherie said, kissing Joan again. They both felt a pang of desire course through them and Joan hitched her leg around Cherie's waist. She felt her temperature rising as her dark jeans rubbed against Cherie's tiny shorts. She slid her hand up her soft, pale legs and grabbed at her skin, breathing heavily. Joan undid the button on Cherie's shorts, feeling her body relax and she smiled, wanting her. She slid her hand down her front and felt how much Cherie wanted her too.

"Fucking fuck," Cherie gasped as Joan touched her.

Joan loved when Cherie swore like that, the dirty words seeming so much worse coming from her innocent mouth. Maybe not-so-innocent anymore. She squirmed beside Cherie, excited by the moment. The same thing kept running through her head, like the chorus of a song…_I want you like I've never wanted anything else before…_

They heard the door swing open and a panic washed over them, as Joan retreated her hand, rolling away from Cherie. She groaned, seeing Scott standing there, a dumbfounded look on his face.

"Were you born in a barn, Scott?" Joan growled.

"Huh?" Scott said, looking between them, clearly beginning to clue in to what he had walked in on.

"You could fuckin knock, you know," Joan answered, sitting up and pulling a cigarette out of her pack, lighting it. She didn't really like Scott very much, especially because she knew that Scott had slept with Cherie before. She didn't know the details, but from what she understood, it hadn't only been once. She wasn't jealous, she just didn't like the way Scott looked at Cherie – like she was a piece of meat. It was offensive and frankly, it made her sick.

Cherie buttoned up her pants, blushing. She didn't like how Cherie sometimes acted around Scott either, that is when he gave her the time of day. It was like she didn't have a brain in her head, like Scott was important and she was just some girl he liked. Joan knew we was over-protective of Cherie, but she just didn't like how they interacted with each other at all.

"What do you want?" Cherie asked, hiding a smile.

"I just wanted to tell you that we have a press dinner tonight. Just got off the phone with Kim, he organized the whole thing. So, make sure you're ready by 7."

"Really? That couldn't have waited, like, 15 minutes?" Joan asked, blowing smoke in his direction.

A smirk spread across his face. "That all it takes?"

Joan scowled. "Sorry, man. We can't all be one minute men like yourself."

Scott snarled and looked at Cherie. "You got those drugs?" she asked.

"Ah, the real reason you came in here," Joan said, flicking ash into the ashtray on the bedside table.

Cherie nodded and reached into her pocket, pulling out the rest of the pills. She crawled over to the end of the bed and held her hand out, Scott walking up and taking them from her, his eyes clearly peering down her shirt.

"Thanks," he whispered, smiling.

"Bye!" Joan said, hinting for him to get the hell out.

He turned and walked out of the room. They heard the door click close and Joan stubbed out her cigarette, sighing.

"Why do you hate him so much?" Cherie asked, sitting cross legged on the bed.

Joan shrugged. "He's an idiot."

"Well yeah but, he's not so bad," Cherie said.

"Whatever," Joan answered, not wanting to talk about it. She was frustrated that they had been interrupted, but she still had that libidinous ache between her legs. She playfully pushed Cherie against the bed, pinning her down by her shoulders. She straddled her hips and peered down at her, her dark hair falling in her face.

"Hey street boy, want some style?" Joan sang huskily, feeling slightly giddy all of a sudden.

Cherie smiled. "Your dead end dreams don't make me smile."

"I'll give you something to live for," Joan leaned down into Cherie's face.

"Have ya, grab ya til you're sore!" Cherie shouted, and Joan slid down her body, lying on top of her. She kissed her hard, hoping Cherie was feeling the same way she was, and pushed against her. After a few moments, Joan slipped her hand back into Cherie's shorts, causing Cherie to gasp slightly.

"If anyone fucking walks in, I'm not stopping. I don't give a shit," Joan said in her ear, pushing inside of her. Cherie's hands made their way down Joan's body and she grabbed at the front of her jeans. Joan slid to the side, watching as Cherie unbuttoned her pants, sliding her delicate hands underneath, touching her. Joan pulled Cherie's shorts down and noticed a flash of red on her hand.

"Oh my god, Cherie. Did I hurt you?" she asked, feeling instantly guilty.

Cherie looked down and frowned, confused. "Oh fuck," she said, pulling her shorts back up and crawling off the bed, dashing into the bathroom.

"Cherie!" Joan shouted, realizing what happened. She chuckled to herself, though slightly disgusted. She supposed it was to be expected when you were fooling around with girls.

She knocked on the door. "Cherie, are you okay?"

"No. I'm fucking mortified," she responded, anxiety in her voice.

Joan smiled. "Don't be embarrassed. It's fine, really."

"No, it's not," Cherie said.

"Cherie, I don't care. Just come back out here."

There was no reply, only shuffling around from the other side of the door.

"Cherie," Joan said again. The door opened slowly and Cherie stood there, her face bright red.

Joan tried to hide her smile, and brushed past her, running her hands under the tap.

"Oh God," Cherie groaned, her face in her hands.

"Stop freaking out. It's not a big deal," Joan said to her, glancing up at her in the mirror.

"Yes it is," Cherie said softly. "It's my first one."

Joan flicked off the tap and turned around. "What?" she said, thinking she heard her incorrectly.

"It's my first one," Cherie repeated.

Joan's mouth fell open slightly, but she snapped it shut. "You've never had your period before?" she asked in slight disbelief.

Cherie shook her head, looking at the ground.

Joan took a deep breath and put her hand on Cherie's tiny shoulder. "Well, baby, let's fuckin' celebrate!" She grabbed Cherie's hand and pulled her into the other room, swinging open the mini bar. She threw a couple of mini bottles of vodka at her and Cherie caught them awkwardly.

"Joan, come on," she said, putting them down on the table.

"No, this is a big deal, Cherie. You're, like, a woman now!" Joan smiled.

"Please don't. I am so embarrassed," Cherie shut her eyes, looking at the ground. Joan put her hands on her shoulders and looked at her.

"We're having a drink, whether you like it or not. Don't be embarrassed. It's _supposed_ to happen!"

"Not while you're…you know."

Joan laughed. "You'd be surprised."

"Don't tell the other girls about this, okay?" Cherie asked sweetly, taking the drink from Joan.

Joan had considered telling Sandy about this because it was just too perfect, but she wouldn't if Cherie really wanted to keep this a secret.

"Okay. I won't say anything, promise."

They both sipped their glasses, making faces as the bitter vodka hit their tongues. Joan glanced over at Cherie, who was clearly still a little upset.

"Hey, let's go see if our room is better than Lita's," Joan said, a smile curling around her lips.

Cherie grinned. "Okay." She knew Joan was just trying to distract her, but she welcomed it and followed her down the hall to see just how good they all had it here.


	4. Chapter 4  Dinner

CHAPTER 4

Later that evening Joan and Cherie rifled through their luggage, pulling out things to wear to the press dinner. Joan quickly pulled out her favourite pair of jeans and a Runaways tshirt, figuring she might as well self-promote. She threw it on, shoving her feet into her worn in, black Chuck Taylors, rubbing her fingers through her hair. She donned a little bit of black eyeliner and mascara, but little else. She sat on the bed flipping through a magazine, smacking her gum, as Cherie pulled out several different options.

"What about this one?" she asked, holding up a flowy, striped top that Joan didn't like. She made a face and shook her head. Cherie groaned, grabbing a baby blue tshirt, holding it up against her tiny frame.

Joan considered it but then shook her head. It just didn't seem like the right thing for Cherie tonight. Cherie threw it on the floor and picked up a light denum button-up shirt. Joan had always liked that on her. She nodded excitedly. Cherie glanced at the shirt and shrugged, pulling off her tshirt, leaving herself topless. Joan smiled coyly and leapt towards her. Cherie shrieked as Joan pulled her onto the bed. She crossed her arms over her chest, covering herself modestly.

"Joan!" she said, trying to sit up.

"On second thought, maybe you should just go like this," Joan said, grinning. She pulled Cherie's arms away, pining them to her sides.

Cherie wrestled to get free but it was no use – Joan was much stronger.

"Let me go!" she said, feeling exposed.

Joan released her and she sat up quickly, grabbing her shirt and shoving her arms through the sleeves, turning around to button it up.

"Aw come on. I was just jokin around, Cherie," Joan said.

"I know. But I'm trying to get ready," Cherie replied, slightly annoyed. She turned back around and flipped her hair over her head, then back, letting it fall messily.

"You look good," Joan said, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. She inhaled the smoke and frowned. Japanese cigarettes tasted different.

"I don't even have any pants on," Cherie said, glancing down at her bare legs.

"I don't mind," Joan said huskily.

Cherie smiled. "Well, I do." She grabbed a pair of dark jeans and pulled them on, tucking her shirt into them. She rifled through her bag again and pulled out a belt. She fastened it around her waist and in the front sat a small, round picture of her hero, David Bowie.

"I like that," Joan said, pointing her cigarette at her.

"I made it," Cherie said, grinning.

Joan watched as Cherie put on her make up, studying the way she looked at herself in the mirror. It was almost like she was applying war paint, preparing herself for battle. She saw a certain emptiness in Cherie's eyes in the mirror, like she was a million miles away, and performing out of routine. It was monotonous for Cherie, the same striking look every time that people have grown accustomed to. She wished she could just paint a big Aladdin Sane-esque lightning bolt down her face and really give people something to look at. On the outside she looked pretty normal, but on the inside she felt like a total fucking freak.

"Hey," Joan said, interrupting the silence.

"Hmm?" Cherie said, applying mascara.

"You seem…far away," Joan answered softly.

"I'm right here, Joanie," Cherie looked over at Joan, smiled slightly, then looked back into the mirror.

"I know you're right _here_, but I mean sometimes I wonder where you go. Lost in your head…"

Cherie took a shallow breath, not taking her eyes off of herself in the mirror, dipping the brush back in the tube and pulling it back out, flicking it across her long, dark lashes. "Just thinking," she said non-chalantly.

"About what?"

Cherie shrugged. "Nothing really."

"I don't believe you," Joan argued.

Cherie glanced sideways at her. "Okay," she said slowly.

"You'd tell me, right? If something was wrong?" Joan didn't like to worry about Cherie but there was something about her that just seemed off.

Cherie nodded,, throwing her make-up back in her bag and walking out of the bathroom. Joan followed and put her hands on Cherie's waist.

"Cherie, you know you're my best friend right?"

Cherie smiled slightly and put her hands on Joan's square shoulders. "I know, Joanie. And you're mine."

"I don't have to worry about you, right?" Joan asked, her voice shallow, cautious.

"I'll be fine. But we're going to be late," Cherie pulled away and Joan felt her slip out of her hands. She held the space Cherie's had just been for a minute before shoving her hands in her pocket and following Cherie out the door. She didn't know what it was, but Cherie was different lately. Maybe it was the drugs, or maybe it was the lack of sleep, but either way, Cherie didn't seem like the cherry bomb Joan had met at the club back in Hollywood. She worried that Cherie was drifting away, losing her fire, and thinking about everything else besides the band. In the back of Joan's mind, the idea of losing Cherie almost made her dizzy with anxiety. But, she wouldn't leave. She couldn't. She was the lead singer, she was Joan's friend.

Joan pushed the idea out of her head and joined the other girls, heading down the long corridor to the dining room in the restaurant downstairs. They slid open the doors and instinctively shielded their faces from the bright flashes. They walked in, butterflies in their stomach and sat down to do their first ever international press meeting. The mania surrounded them as they heard people talking to them all at once, some in Japanese and some in English. It quickly took Joan's mind off of Cherie, who sat near her, hands in her lap, smiling sweetly and confidently just like she always did. She was the one they wanted most – the blonde bombshell. Cherie couldn't leave this. This is just too good.


	5. Chapter 5 Blow

Chapter 5

The roar of the crowd was incredible. From backstage the girls could hear the manic screaming of literally thousands of Japanese fans.

"Runaways! Runaways!" they screamed, inviting them to come out onto the stage. Joan and Cherie exchanged looks of nervous excitment. Lita rolled her shoulders, jumping on place slighty, her jet black guitar swinging in front of her. Sandy shouted, throwing her fists in the air, a huge grin in her face. Jackie strummed gently on her blue bass guitar, shaking her head to the beat. They were quiet, all 5 of them just enjoying the buzz in their own way.

They heard their introduction and a deafening roar rumbled the arena. Sandy marched out first, gripping her drumsticks, followed by Lita, then Jackie, then Joan. Cherie always came out last, as the spotlight beamed onto centre stage, illuminating her iconic figure - long, slender legs, golden blonde hair, cherry red lips, and of course her signature perfectly fitted lace corset. She stormed on stage, sending the crowd into a tizzy.

"Cher-ie! Cher-ie!" they shouted collectively. Cherie smiled to herself, feeling invincible. There was nothing like the rush of standing onstage, thousands of people calling your name, waiting, begging to see you give them exactly what they want.

Joan strummed her guitar once, the boom echoing throughout the arena. "hey! We're The Runaways!" she shouted into the mic, her raspy voice filling the room, sending the crowd into another wave of hysteria. Not in a million years did Joan expect it to be like this. She smiled, glancing over to her bandmates, all of them with the same grin on their faces. Sandy clicked her drumsticks together, counting them off and they started, the music exploding from their instruments, making the whole place fill with their intensity. Joan looked out into the crowd, saw their shiny, excited faces and felt on top if the world. She would never get sick of this feeling, never get sick of standing on stage, playing her guitar like an extension of her own body, watching people react to her. She felt powerful, but most of all, she felt at home.

After the show they piled backstage, their ears ringing. Their first of several Japanese shows went flawlessly and they all buzzed with excitement. They took shots of vodka back stage, feeling like the rock stars they all had wanted to be for so long. Cherie twirled around in her corset, still sweaty and jittery from the performance. Joan watched her from across the room, smiling crookedly. Sandy nudged her and flickered her eyebrows, clearly decoding the thoughts floating through Joan's head. Joan looked away, slightly embarrassed. She took another swig from the bottle, holding it loosely by her side. Lita grabbed it from her and took a sip, screwing up her face as it stung her throat. Joan pulled out her cigarettes, her hands shaking slightly, and dropped the pack by accident. She laughed at herself and picked them up, casually grabbing one and tossing the pack to Sandy. Joan look a long drag, exhaling slowly as she glanced over at Cherie again, who was now sitting in a chair across the room, her long legs on either side of the seat, leaning forward. Joan walked over to her and crouched down in front of her, cigarette hanging out of her mouth. She put her hands on Cherie's thighs and just looked into her flushed, familiar face. Cherie squinted at her and then took the cigarette from Joan's lips, putting it to her own and taking a drag, holding the smoke in her mouth before letting it fall out slowly. Joan smiled her special smile and Cherie licked her lips, the two of them just staring at each other, sharing the hazy feeling of the booze and the afterglow of performing. Cherie took another drag and placed the cigarette back between Joan's lips.

"Let's get high," Cherie said quietly, her voice raspy.

Joan grabbed the cigarette with her thumb and index finger, exhaling into the air above their heads. She stood up and held out her hand, nodding toward the others. Cherie grabbed it and stood up, walking over to the group with Joan.

"Who's got some 'luudes?" Joan asked, looking at the other girls.

They all shrugged. Scott was nowhere to be found, probably fucking some poor groupie. Cherie was quiet for a moment and then added, "I think I can score us some blow."

The other girls looked at her, considering the idea. Joan's first instinct was 'hell no' but she was feeling so good from the show that she was willing to try just about anything.

"from who?" Lita asked, skeptical.

"one of the stage guys. He offered me some before the show."

"do it," Sandy said, shrugging.

Cherie looked over at Joan who gave her a blank stare. Cherie took her lack of objection to mean it was okay, and she turned in her heels, marching over to one of the stage crew guys, who looked her up and down a huge smile on his face. Joan watched the interaction, not liking it when the guy put his arm around Cherie's waist, whispering in her ear. Joan dragged her eyes away from them, dropping her cigarette on the ground and stomping it out with her shoe. She stared at the ground until she heard Cherie's footsteps clicking back toward them. Cherie re-apppeared, holding a small baggie filled with white powder. A smile crept across her face and they all looked down at the substance, each curious and nervous. Cherie closed her delicate hands around the bag and they followed her down the corridor to the dressing room.

Cherie opened the bag and poured a small mound of the powder onto the table. She used her fingers to separate it into several smaller piles, trying her best to cut bumps. She licked her finger after, tasting the chalky bitterness. She looked up at the other girls, who watched her intently. She seemed to know what she was doing, but in reality none of them had ever experimented with cocaine before.

"Who's first?" she asked.

Sandy knelt down over the table. She looked over at Cherie, who smiled, and then lowered her face to the table, inhaling one of the piles in two separate snorts. She coughed, wiping her nose and shook her head, instantly feeling the rush. She stepped back, the other girls watching her, and smiled.

Cherie bent down over the table and did the same, closing her eyes afterward and letting the head rush make her dizzy. Joan watched her, then looked at the white crystally powder on the table. She knelt down beside Cherie, who flickered her eyebrows suggestively, and stuck her fingers in one if the piles, tasting it. She gritted her teeth, taking a deep breath, before snorting the line. She shook her shaggy hair and sat back. She felt the rush go to her head quickly but it was short lived. She watched as Lita and Jackie both did the same. Cherie cut a couple more lines and took one, a warped smile appearing on her face, scaring Joan slightly. Sandy did another line, and so did Joan. Her heart pounded in her chest, making her feel anxious. She lit a cigarette, her hands trembling. She gritted her teeth, shaking her head. Cherie came waltzing over, pushing her shoulders. She laughed, feeling numb and full of energy. Joan grabbed at her, stumbling slightly.

"Feels good," Cherie said, an edge to her voice.

Joan nodded, still feeling shaky. She wasn't sure if she liked this so much but just went with it. The other girls seemed to be okay, so she tried to forget about it. She put her hands on Cherie's waist, wishing the other girls weren't there. Cherie grinned and pressed against Joan, kissing her. Joan pulled away slightly but Cherie wrapped her hand around the back of Joan's neck, pulling her close. They kissed for a moment and Sandy shouted at them, laughing. Lita watched them and snickered, whispering something into Jackie's ear. Jackie picked up a beer cap that was lying on the ground and chucked it at Cherie, hitting her in the back of the head. Cherie didn't even flinch, completely numbed from the coke and lost in the hazy moment with Joan.

"Get a room!" Sandy yelled.

Joan pulled away from Cherie, holding her wrists. She looked at her glassy blue eyes and felt an intense rush of desire.

Cherie giggled and pulled free from Joan's grasp. She swayed slightly in place before turning to sit down with the other girls. Joan stood there for a moment, feeling like things were in slow motion. Her body felt heavy but her head was spinning slightly. She sat down quietly, running her hands through her hair, shaking her knee. She felt restless and anxious, and a little horny now. She kept glancing over at Cherie, who was clearly enjoying the high. She buzzed , talking animatedly. She was even joking around with Lita, the two of them laughing over Sandy's goofy grin. Joan swallowed, tasting the coke in the back of her throat. It didn't taste as bad now, kind of sweet. But it scratched her throat and she wished she had a glass of water. Sandy came over and put her arm around Joan's shoulders, having noticed the look on her face.

"How's it goin over here, Pepper?" she asked, sounding far away. Joan just nodded slowly and leaned into Sandy, smelling the smoky leather of her jacket. She grinded her teeth slightly and sat there, listening to the conversation. She felt numb, listless. It was not at all like the hazy, gentle high of the Qualuudes. This made her heart race but she felt no genuine excitement. At least the 'luudes made her happy, giddy even. This just made her feel intense, and not in a good way. Cherie on the other hand found herself wanting another line. She felt like nothing could hurt her in this moment, like she was infinite. Her heart raced the way it did when she was on stage. She felt larger than life, truly powerful. She liked this high - it made her feel like nothing else mattered except this feeling. She forgot about all the other things, like how she missed home and was starting to hate her life on the road. She still felt out of control, but in a good way; not like how it felt when she was drunk. On 'luudes she sometimes felt great but sometimes felt intensely sad. They were unpredictable. But narcotics made her feel strong, like she could handle anything.

Cherie looked over at Joan who was leaning into Sandy, her teeth grinding together, hands locked in between her knees. Joan met her glare and she felt disconnected from Cherie, which scared her. Everytime they looked at each other, it was like try were having their own private conversation, but now Joan felt as though she was looking at a different person.

And perhaps she was.


	6. Chapter 6 Photoshoot

**A/N: This chapter is pretty long. I thought about spliting it into two chapters, bue decided against it. Please review!**

The next morning, Joan felt like she had been hit by a truck. This was worse than any hang over she'd ever had. She felt desperately thirsty, stiff, and still a little anxious. She had barely slept, having felt restless and shaky the whole night. They had all stayed up and seen the sunrise, their high lasting for several intense hours. Joan and Cherie had finally flitted back to their room and had gotten maybe 3 hours sleep if that before Scott called them to tell them they had an impromptu photoshoot that afternoon. Those were probably the worst combination of words Joan had ever heard.

She groaned loudly and covered her face in her hands, her head feeling like it could explode. She nudged Cherie who laid there, her make up smeared all over her face. She fluttered her eyelids and coughed slightly.

"Guess what?" Joan said unenthusuastically. "We have a fuckin photoshoot today."

Cherie scrunched up her face. "Huh?" She croaked.

Joan nodded. "You heard me. We gotta be outta here in like an hour. But I don't think I've felt this shitty in my whole life." She groaned again.

Cherie slinked towards Joan. She threw her arm across her body and snuggled into her side.

"Joanie," she whined.

"I know, Cherie. I feel the same way." She put her arm over Cherie's and they laid there for a minute, their heads pounding.

Cherie stirred slightly and slid her hand up Joan's body and over her chest. Joan smiled slightly and closed her eyes, waiting to see where Cherie was going with this. Cherie moved closer against Joan and pulled at her weakly. Joan looked over at her and scanned her face. Cherie pouted her lips slightly and Joan leaned in and kissed her. Even though her whole body was screaming at her in pain, kissing Cherie always made Joan feel good. She found Cherie very sexy, even with her make up smeared under her eyes, her blonde hair sticking out wildly from all places, and her skinny arms bruised from being too numb to feel pain. It was strange how easy it was with Cherie, it was just one moment to the next that they went from being friends and band mates to being lovers. They had both been with men before, but there was something comforting in being together. They didn't have to worry about all the other trivial things; they already knew everything.

Cherie wrapped her leg around Joan's, her muscles stiffening slightly. Their movements were slow and weak from being a little strung out, but they both felt the familiar buzz of desire. Cherie slid her hand under Joan's shirt, touching her softly. Joan inhaled, feeling Cherie's cold hands graze across her skin. She put her hand on top of Cherie's and guided it to the place she wanted her to touch most. Cherie smiled against her skin, kissing her neck, her shoulders. They both knew that if there was any hope in hell that they could get out of bed they had to get their mind off of this awful feeling - and sex was the fastest way.

Joan closed her eyes, letting the pleasure filter over her pain, concentrating on the way Cherie moved against her. She reciprocated the same motions, making Cherie moan softly, biting her lip. Joan felt her heartbeat finally feel normal again and she rolled over on top of Cherie, her head still pounding. She ignored the thumping in her head and pressed harder against Cherie's slender body. She slid her hand down Cherie's stomach, playing with the band of her underwear.

"You can't," Cherie said softly, reminding Joan of their slightly awkward discovery the other day.

"Fuck," Joan groaned, burying her face in Cherie's neck. "I wanna touch you," she bit her and Cherie squirmed, giggling slightly.

"Only a little," she whispered, and Joan smiled her special smile. Cherie closed her eyes, feeling Joan's familiar hands slip underneath, and she tried not to think about how awful she felt. Joan whispered dirty words in her ear, making Cherie smile and blush a little. She loved these moments with Joan, loved having something that none of the other girls did. Joan was her rock, the only thing that kept her going. The idea of leaving the band sometimes seemed very appealing, but then she thought of Joan, the look on her face that leaving would bring and she knew she couldn't do it. She couldn't hurt Joan like that.

Joan kissed Cherie's skin, focussing on making her feel good. Cherie grabbed at Joan, slipping her hand under the waistband of her pants, watching as Joan licked her lips.

"Joanie," Cherie said, her voice shaky. "I think I'm gonna -" she gasped softly, her whole body relaxing as the wave of pleasure flooded over her, and for a single moment she felt perfect. Joan chuckled in her low, raspy way. She rolled sideways to lay beside Cherie, grabbing her forearm as she guided Cherie's touch. Cherie kissed Joan, glad she was making her happy. Joan moaned, her voice catching in her throat.

"Fuck," she said. "This feels good," she gripped Cherie's arm harder, feeling herself get closer to the edge. Cherie sucked Joan's neck, grazing her teeth along her soft skin, sending a shiver down Joan's spine. Joan ran her hands through her hair, gripping it between her fingers, squeezing her eyes shut. She bit her lip hard, concentrating intensely on the growing feeling between her legs as Cherie touched her. She wanted to come, needed to come, knowing it was the only thing that could make her feel better right now. She furrowed her brow, forcing images of sexy celebrities through her head. First it was Paul Newman with his shirt off, his gorgeous peircing blue eyes shimmering at her, but it did nothing. She thought of the porn movies she'd seen, giggling the whole time, her eyes fixated on the exposed body parts. She felt a slight peak and smiled to herself. She heard Cherie moan softly in her ear and instantly the famous pin-up pictures of Farrah Fawcett popped into her head. She arched her back, feeling the rush flow to her core and let out a staggered gasp, pulling Cherie closer to her, feeling her soft hair against her face.

"Fuck yes," she said in a loud whisper, pushing Cherie's hand against herself once more.

Cherie smiled, snuggling against Joan's relaxed body. She always felt calm afterward with Joan; not like it had been with Scott. She felt very alone after she slept with Scott, like she shouldn't be there with him anymore. But with Joan, she knew she didn't have to feel out of place. Joan made her feel wanted, one way or another. She closed her eyes, beginning to feel the awful, strung out feeling come over her again. She pulled herself closer to Joan and groaned, picturing how the rest of the day was going to go. All she wanted was to lie in bed all day, talking with Joan and making her smile. Joan looked over at Cherie, the exact same thing floating through her head, their eyes exchanging a look that explained so much without a single word.

* * *

Cherie sat in the bathroom at the studio, staring at the remainder of coke in the tiny baggie in her hand. She knew it would make her feel better, but she also knew the other girls would get mad at her if she was high...and they weren't. She closed her hand around the bag and and sighed, shoving it back in her pocket. The door swung open and Sandy stood there, looking at Cherie.

"I'm the search party," she said. "And I guess I found ya." She smiled, nodding toward the door. Cherie took one last look at herself in the mirror, shaking her head at the mess that stared back at her. Her eyes looked sunken in from the lack of sleep and haunting withdrawl, her hair had too much product in it, and her make up was too obvious, hiding all her imperfections. She looked like the Cherie Thing she became when she was on stage, the wild, rebel cherry bomb. But she felt like she was beginning to forget who Cherie Currie really was. She ran her hand through her hair and marched out. Sandy grabbed her arm as she walked past and Cherie turned to look at her.

"You look great," Sandy said, smiling. Cherie cocked her head slightly, surprised at Sandy's compliment. They had always been friendly with each other, but Sandy had never said anything like this before, nor had she looked at Cherie in quite this way. Cherie smiled politely and thanked her.

"You always look good," Sandy added, her hand still holding Cherie's tiny wrist.

Cherie chuckled, blushing slightly.

"I know you're with Joan but, I just wanted to tell you that." Sandy let go of her arm and shoved her hands into her pockets.

"I'm not _with_ Joan," Cherie said matter-of-factly. "I'm not with anyone."

Sandy frowned slightly, her eyes scanning Cherie's face, settling on her lips.

"I kind of want to kiss you," Sandy said. Cherie smiled, she always liked that Sandy said what was on her mind.

"Okay," Cherie answered, looking at her suggestively.

Sandy swallowed hard, licking her lips before leaning forward and kissing Cherie's red lips softly. The feeling surprised her, and she panicked slightly, pulling away. Cherie laughed, noticing Sandy's insecurity and pushed her against the wall, kissing her again. She slid her tongue along Sandy's bottom lip before slipping it into her mouth, touching it to Sandy's. Sandy inhaled deeply, putting her hands awkwardly on Cherie's hips. She was overwhelmed by the feeling of Cherie's body pressed around hers and started to giggle. Cherie pulled away, smiling. They looked at each other for a moment, Cherie sucking on her bottom lip.

"Well then," Sandy said, breaking the silence."I guess we should go back out before they send another search party for us," she smiled, and motioned towad the door, a grin on her face. Sandy felt flush and she rolled her shouders, marching behind Cherie, watching her hips sway as she walked.

The other girls looked at them as they came in, Lita rolling her eyes.

"So nice of you to join us," she said sarcastically. Joan studied the look on both their faces and wondered what they were smiling about. Cherie walked toward her, flicking her eyebrows and stood next to her, taking the cigarette out of her hand and taking a drag, blowing the smoke out slowly. Joan looked over at Sandy, who avoided her gaze and she frowned. She looked sideways at Cherie who handed the cigarette back to her. She took it and dropped it on the ground, stomping it out. She leaned into Cherie and whispered "Are you high?"

Cherie laughed. "I wish," she mused. She stuck her tongue out and glanced over at Sandy who smiled, then looked at the ground. Joan shrugged and shifted on her feet, tired of waiting for the photographer to set up. She felt like shit, and was fighting with herself to not to throw up and all this waiting around - first for Cherie and now for the photographer - was enough to make her want to faint. Finally the photographer was ready and he motioned toward Cherie. They all stepped forward but he shook his head, explained that he only wanted pictures of Cherie right now.

"Why?" Joan asked defiantly.

In his broken English, the photographer said that Cherie was going to have her own shots done because she is the favourite. Lita laughed mockingly. Sandy crossed her arms, glaring at the photographer.

"She's not the only one," Joan said, raising her voice. "She's the singer in a band, you know. We're here too!"

The photographer shrugged, looking between all their faces. Joan shot an angry look at Cherie. What was she supposed to do? She just did what she was asked of and she didn't see much of a difference of who they took shots of. If they only wanted Joan, she wouldn't care.

"Yeah, man," Lita chimed in. "It's not the fuckin' Cherie Currie band. We're The Runaways. And if she gets solo shots, then we all do. Or else you can fuckin forget about it." She crossed her arms, challenging him to argue with her.

The photograher looked over at Scott, who shrugged, a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

"Don't look at him," Joan said loudly. "He doesn't fuckin get a say. You take pictures of all of us, or you don't take any at all. What's your choice?"

The photographer smiled mockingly and put his camera down. He waved at them and they all scoffed, storming out of the studio. They heard Scott trying to apologize as the door swung shut behind them.

"Fucking unreal," Lita spat, lighting a cigarette. "Who the fuck made you queen of the goddamn universe?" She glared at Cherie.

"Hey, I didn't ask for this shit," Cherie answered defensively.

"You would have fuckin loved to have that guy take pictures of you," Lita continued.

"No I wouldn't!" Cherie yelled back.

"Oh please. I didn't see you arguing with him. You agree with him, don't you? You're everyone's favourite. Everyone _loves _Cherie!"

"Fuck you," Cherie said, flipping Lita off.

Lita took a long drag on her cigarette and flicked it at Cherie.

"Hey!" Joan yelled, shoving Lita's shoulder. "What the fuck?"

Cherie gritted her teeth, wanting so badly to pounce on Lita, but she knew better. Lita could kill her if she really wanted to.

"Why are you always defending her, Joan?" Lita asked, glaring at Cherie.

"Cool it, Lita," Joan said sternly.

Lita snarled and stormed off ahead of them, Jackie speeding up to catch her. Joan watched as they walked away before glancing back at Cherie. Sandy stood there too, her eyes darting between the two of them.

"You alright?" Joan asked, pulling out two cigarettes, offering one to Cherie.

She nodded, taking it and putting it between her lips. Joan lit it, then her own, taking a long drag.

"This day blows," Joan said, exhaling.

Sandy and Cherie nodded, stealing a glance at each other.

"Let's go back to the hotel and have a drink. Then, I'm going to sleep until dinner, I swear," Joan threw her arm around both their shoulders and they walked down the corridor and out to the car that was waiting for them. They all sat silently on the ride home, Lita still fuming. The tension was thick and she flung herself out of the car as soon as the pulled up to the hotel, marching to her room and slamming the door. Even Jackie decided to stay away from her because when Lita was in this bad a mood, she would take it out on anyone around her.

Joan, Sandy and Cherie all hung out, mixing drinks from the mini bar. It felt good to feel the calm, coolness of the alcohol wash over them. After a few, Joan stripped down to a tshirt and underwear, crawling into bed. Cherie did the same, and Sandy watched, slightly titilated. They both looked at her from the bed and smiled, patting the empty space. Sandy slid off her jacket and her shorts, crawling in between them. She laid there, looking between them, not sure what this entailed. But Joan rolled over, pulling the sheet over her shoulders and closed her eyes, welcoming the much needed sleep.

Sandy glanced over at Cherie who cuddled in next to her, also closing her eyes. Sandy smiled, slinking down under the covers and felt both Cherie and Joan next to her, closing her eyes and feeling for the moment, completely and totally relaxed. She drifted off to sleep, moving slightly closer to Cherie, all three of them glad to be back in bed instead of standing around in that studio.

Cherie felt a hand reach around her stomach, sliding under her shirt. She stirred slightly and glanced behind her, seeing Sandy's smile. She put her hand on top and pushed it away, rolling over.

"Joan's not here," Sandy said. "She's in the shower."

Cherie moved slightly, considering the idea. Even though she wasn't Joan's girlfriend or anything, she still felt guilty, especially with Joan in the other room. It was one thing to kiss Sandy, it was quite another to fool around with her.

"I can't," Cherie whispered. "I'm on my period."

Sandy blushed and nodded, rolling away. She got up and slid her shorts on quickly.

"You can stay," Cherie said, awkwardly.

"It's okay. I'm gonna go see if Lita's coolled off yet. I'll see ya later," she grabbed her jacket and walked out.

Cherie sighed, rolling out of bed and snuck into the bathroom. She poked her head behind the curtain. Joan smiled, the water sliding down her body.

"Can I help you?" She asked.

"No," Cherie answered, winking.

"Is Sandy still out there?"

Cherie shook her head.

"You wanna come in?" Joan asked, smirking.

Cherie smiled bashfully but shook her head again.

"Well, I'll be out in a minute," she said. Cherie nodded and walked back into the other room. She pulled out the packet of coke from her pocket and dumped it on the table, cutting two small lines. Joan walked out, a towel wrapped around her body, her jet black hair dripping. She looked over at Cherie in the other room and frowned.

"What are you doin?" She asked, walking toward her.

"Thought we might like a pick me up," she said smiling, motioning toward the table.

Joan sighed, surveying the white powder.

"I don't like that shit," she said. "It makes me too jittery."

Cherie pouted. "C'mon, Joanie. It's not so bad. It's just the rest of it. One line will be fine. Maybe you just had too much last night."

Joan grimaced, glancing between the table and Cherie's eager face.

"Fine," she growled. "This is it, though. I don't want to do any more." She knelt down beside Cherie and they both leaned over the table, snorting the bump quickly. Joan shook her head, coughing slightly. A dull smile crept across Cherie's face and she wiped her nose.

"Much better," she said softly.

Joan nodded getting up, pulling a pair of jeans and a tshirt out of her bag. She felt lightheaded and her heart raced in that familiar, uneasy way. She didn't know why she let Cherie talk her into it but, then again if she didn't do one Cherie would have done both. Joan was beginning to worry how much Cherie liked drugs. Realistically, they all liked drugs a little too much but Cherie really seemed to get off on being high. For Cherie, being high helped her forget, helped her to become apathetic about the things that made her desperately unhappy. It truly made her a runaway - from her problems, from her fears, from herself. Cherie didn't trust very many people anymore, but she knew she could always trust the drugs.

"I love you, Joanie," Cherie said hazily from the other room.

"I love you too, Cherie," Joan replied in her husky voice, genuinely meaning it. She walked back over the Cherie and they sat there quietly on the sofa, smoking cigarettes and feeling the buzz flood through their bodies. Joan had to admit, she felt a little better, but then again her favourite thing to do was to sit quietly with Cherie, saying nothing because nothing else needed to be said.


	7. Chapter 7  Sandy

The thing about life in a teenage rock band is that hormones and angst are part of the package. Five girls, one skeezy roadie and a handful of drugs sometimes leads to trouble. It wasn't that they all hated each other, but rather that under these circumstances, tempers were unpredictable and even the best of friends could end up in a fist fight.

Joan sat in her room, the last night of their Japanese tour, strumming her unplugged guitar, singing softly. She scribbled lyrics in a notebook on the table in front of her, studying her handwriting intently.

"Joanie," Cherie said from the other room. She was lying on her back, her head hanging over the edge of the bed, staring at Joan upside down.

Joan glanced up at her in response.

"I'm bored," Cherie whined.

Joan licked her lips. "I'm busy. Hang on a second." She did not like to be interrupted while she was writing.

"Do you have any pills?" Cherie asked.

"No," Joan answered, slightly annoyed.

"Do you want me to go find some?"

Joan shrugged, trying to concentrate.

"Joan?" Cherie asked after she didn't get a satisfactory reply.

"Shut up, Cherie. I'm busy." Joan didn't like to snap like that but she had to get some songs written because they were set to record an album once they were back home.

"Can't you finish that later?" Cherie asked, turning to lie on her stomach.

"No, Cherie. I can't fucking finish this later. We have a show later and then we are flying back home. So, unless you don't want to record another album, I'm gonna have to do this now." Joan glared at her, then back down at her guitar, strumming the chords she had been working on.

"What's your problem today, Joan?" Cherie asked defiantly.

Joan clenched her jaw. "My problem, _Cherie_, is that I don't have two fucking seconds to myself to write any goddamn music for this band. Maybe if one of you picked up a pen this wouldn't be so hard."

"You never said you wanted us to write songs," Cherie argued.

"Would it kill you to take a little initiative? I do everything here! I fight for us, I write our songs, I talk to Kim. And what do you do? Put on your corset and strut around on stage."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I don't think you give two shits about the future of this band," Joan's heart stuttered as she said this, her inner anxieties about Cherie finally coming to light.

"That's not true," Cherie said quickly.

"Fine. Good. But I'm not here to fucking entertain you every minute of the day, Cherie. I have to finish this song and the next song and the next song because that's my job, alright? I write the songs, and you sing 'em. If you don't like it –" she stopped herself, feeling like the rest of that sentence could sound like a dare. "Well, too bad if you don't like it."

Cherie sat up and walked over toward Joan, a scowl on her face. "Alright, maestro. I'm leaving," she waltzed out the door, letting it slam behind her.

Joan shook her head, pulling out a cigarette and leaning back on the chair. She felt kind of bad for being short with Cherie, but some times she felt like she was carrying the weight of the entire band on her back. Kim put the most responsibility in Joan's hands, always checking up with her to make sure things were fine while they were on the road. Things were fine, for the most part, but it was days like this where all Joan wanted to do was sit in a room, alone, and write music. She never had a single private moment to herself these days and it was starting to get on her last nerve. She loved the girls but everyone needs some time to be alone with their thoughts.

* * *

Cherie knocked softly on Scott's door and he opened it quickly.

"Hi," Cherie said, a coy smile on her face.

"Hello," Scott replied, moving sideways, inviting Cherie in. He closed the door behind her and flicked the lock.

"What's up?" he asked, watching her as she casually peered around his room. It was slightly smaller than the one she was sharing with Joan, which made her smile slightly, and he had papers all over the small desk, clothes all over the floor and she could see the edge of a dirty magazine poking out from under the bed. She glanced toward him and shrugged, sitting down on the edge of his unmade bed.

Scott sat down next to her, wasting absolutely no time, and grazed his hand over hers before kissing her suddenly. Cherie's instant reaction was to pull away, as she began to regret coming here, but she ignored it, allowing him to press against her on the bed. She moaned slightly as his hands travelled down her body. They felt strange compared to Joan's – they weren't gentle or caressing; they were anxious and aggressive. His breathing was heavy as he rocked his hips against hers, kissing her neck and travelling down her body. She sighed, her eyes shut tight, trying to concentrate on the moment but all she could think of was her argument with Joan and how badly she wanted some pills or a drink or something. She grabbed his hair just as he was about to go down on her and pulled his head away from her. He laughed slightly, looking up and her but her face did not express playfulness. He raised one eyebrow curiously and she slithered away from him, sitting up.

"What's wrong?" Scott asked, glaring at her.

"I don't want to anymore," Cherie said softly.

"What do you mean? C'mon, Cherie," Scott pleaded.

"No," she replied, crossing her arms.

"Cherie, don't be like that. I won't go down on you if that's what you want," he said.

"It's not that. I just don't want to anymore."

"Cherie," Scott said softly, pulling at her.

"Scott, no. I'm leaving," she got up quickly, pulling away from him. She stood in front of him, looking at the frustrated expression on his face. "Do you have any pills or something?" she asked, expressionless.

"Nope," Scott replied, looking up her.

"Fine," Cherie said, storming out of the room. She walked down the hallway, feeling uncomfortable and a little embarrassed. She didn't want to disturb Joan again but was worried about knocking on Lita's door looking for Sandy. She wandering the hall for a moment before standing in front of their room, knocking on it softly. Sandy opened the door and smiled.

"Hello stranger," she said, ushering her in. Cherie looked past her, checking to see who else was in the room but they appeared to be alone.

"They went out," Sandy said, noticing the curious look on Cherie's face.

Cherie nodded and sat down on the couch, glancing down at the magazines on the table.

"You want a drink?" Sandy asked.

Cherie nodded, watching as Sandy poured two screwdrivers. Sandy handed her the glass and she took it, sipping it quickly.

"What's Joanie doin?" Sandy asked, sitting next to Cherie.

Cherie sighed. "Writing a song."

Sandy nodded, taking a sip. They sat there for a moment quietly, just drinking. Cherie looked around the room, then her eyes finally settled on Sandy's face. She noticed the striking colour of her eyes – an intense greeny-blue – and she smiled slightly. Sandy glared back at Cherie, thinking about how attractive she found her. She put her drink down, and pulled Cherie's out of her hands. She placed them on the table next to them and shifted closer. Cherie didn't move, and instead watched Sandy, anticipating what was going to happen. Sandy leaned into her and Cherie moved slightly, their lips touching softly. Cherie let herself move into the kiss and they sat there for a few moments, their tongues exploring each other's mouths. Cherie slid her hand up Sandy's leg, hooking it around her waist and pushing closer against her. Sandy smiled against Cherie's mouth, leaning into her, pushing her back against the arm of the couch. Cherie closed her eyes, enjoying the unfamiliarity of Sandy's touch. It gentle because she was nervous, not sure if at any moment Cherie would stop her. But she kept going, slipping her hands under Cherie's shirt and feeling her smooth skin. Both of their hearts were beating so fast they swore the other could hear it, and Sandy lay on top of Cherie, her hands slithering down her body.

"Shit, Cherie," Sandy breathed, her hands shaking slightly.

"Mmm," Cherie replied, her eyes closed and head tilted back.

"I don't know what I'm doing," Sandy said softly.

Cherie giggled. "Yes you do."

Sandy shook her head, tucking her hand under Cherie's back.

"Just do it how you would do it to yourself," Cherie said encouragingly.

Sandy frowned for a moment, blushing. She was nervous, not only because she was with Cherie but because she had never done this before. She felt inexperienced next to Cherie, even though Cherie was the youngest in the band. She kissed her again, trying not to think about it too much and unbuttoned the front of Cherie's pants, sliding her hand underneath. She was surprised at the feeling and opened her eyes to look at Cherie, who bit her lip, eyes squeezed shut. She moved her hand as Cherie told her, much as she would have done to herself, and Cherie squirmed underneath her excitedly.

"That's good," Cherie whispered.

Sandy smiled, kissing Cherie again, wanting to make her happy. Cherie grabbed her hand, guiding it in just the right place before arching her back and letting out a delicate whimper as her whole body felt like it was exploding. She clawed at Sandy, riding out the wave, pulling her closer.

"That was perfect," Cherie said, her eyes still closed, a smile playing on her lips.

Sandy shifted against her, moving slightly, unsure what to do next. Cherie grabbed her and pulled her back against her.

"Where are you going? It's your turn now," she said coyly, sliding her hand quickly down Sandy's stomach, reaching into the front of her jeans. Sandy swallowed hard, her breath quickening as she felt Cherie touch her in the same way. She closed her eyes, waiting to feel the impending wave of pleasure and smiled to herself. She loved this moment, the way Cherie looked, the way she made her feel. She felt slightly guilty, knowing there was something going on between Joan and Cherie, but they lived in a time where they took what they wanted and rarely asked for permission. She revelled in this freedom, and her whole body exploded then, Cherie feeling rather pleased with herself. They lay there for a moment quietly, both enjoying the afterglow. Sandy sat up and grabbed her pack of cigarettes, pulling out one for each of them. They sat there smoking, neither sure of what to say. Cherie opened her mouth to speak when there was a knock at the door. Sandy got up and opened it, seeing Joan standing in front of her with a slight smile on her face.

"Hi," she said, snapping her gum in her mouth playfully.

Sandy was surprised to see Joan, still feeling a little guilty, and plastered a big grin on her face to hide her thoughts. She ushered her inside and Joan locked eyes with Cherie, who paused slightly when she saw her. Joan's eyes said she was sorry for their argument earlier and Cherie's said that everything was forgiven. Joan sat in the chair across from Cherie, taking the cigarette from her fingers and putting between her own, taking a few drags before passing it back. She leaned forward in her chair, grabbing the glass on the table and smelling it, a smile spreading across her face, and she threw the drink back. Cherie watched Joan intently, smoking slowly. Joan grinned at her goofily, sitting back in her chair, her hands behind her head.

"I wrote an awesome song," she said confidently.

Sandy and Cherie both smiled. "What's it called?"

"It's called 'Don't Go Away'. I think Kim's gonna like it."

Sandy nodded. "We should jam it later, I want to hear it so I can start thinking about the beat."

Joan smiled, glancing over at Cherie. "It's kinda sexy,"

Cherie smirked, putting her cigarette out in the ashtray. "Good."

Sandy felt a pang of jealousy, but quickly tried to ignore it. She grabbed her drink off the table and took a swing, shuddering slightly at the bite from the vodka. She got up quickly and went into the bathroom, leaving Cherie and Joan alone for a moment.

"You okay?" Joan asked Cherie, leaning forward, her arms hanging over her knees.

Cherie nodded.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Joan said softly.

"Don't be," Cherie replied. "I shouldn't have bothered you."

The stared at each other for a moment and they could both feel the tension lift between them. Cherie felt slightly uneasy at the fact that she and Sandy had just fooled around, but she didn't owe that to Joan – they weren't together. They never talked about what they were; it just was what it was. Cherie quickly pushed the idea out of her head and got up to make another round of drinks. Joan grabbed her as she walked past her and pulled her into her lap. Cherie laughed and looked at Joan, scanning her face.

"We're going home tomorrow," Joan said, her hands resting around Cherie's tiny waist.

"I know," Cherie answered.

"We're actually going to have some time off,"

Cherie nodded, smiling slightly at the idea of being home, in her own bed. The thought of seeing her sister, Marie, also made her feel excited to go back home.

Joan looked toward the bathroom door, checking to see if it was still closed, and she leaned in and kissed Cherie gently. Cherie pulled away, feeling awkward, knowing things that Joan did not. Sandy was just in the other room, within perfect view of them if she came waltzing out at any moment. She had to tread on this situation lightly, at least until the immediacy of her and Sandy's hook up wore off. She wriggled away from Joan's arms, standing up quickly and walking over toward the bottle of vodka on the counter, pouring it into three glasses. Joan frowned, staring at Cherie, who had her back turned. Cherie could feel Joan's glare as she continued to mix drinks.

"What was _that_?" Joan asked finally.

Cherie turned around casually, handing Joan a glass and shrugged. "What was what?"

Joan tilted her head, glaring at Cherie. "You know what I mean."

Cherie sucked in a breath and rolled her eyes. "Sandy's right in there," she said, pointing at the bathroom.

"So?" Joan asked.

"So, I don't want her to come out and see us making out."

Joan scoffed. "Because she's never seen that happen before."

Cherie didn't want to talk about this. She took a sip from her drink and looked at Joan sweetly, batting her eyelashes and smiling. "Joanie," she cooed.

Joan tried to hide her smile but couldn't, letting her amusement show all over her face. She couldn't stay upset with Cherie for very long, especially when she made that sweet, innocent face. She rocked back in her seat and shoved her hand in her pocket, pulling out her cigarettes. She spat her gum out into the wastebasket beside her and flipped the cigarette in the air lightly, catching it in her mouth. Cherie laughed and Joan looked over at her coyly, flicking her lighter and sucking in the smoke.

"You like that, huh?" she asked, exhaling.

Cherie nodded.

"I just learned how to do that," Joan said, shoving her lighter back in her pocket, and tossing her pack of smokes on the table.

The door of the bathroom swung open, and Sandy came out. They both looked casually I her direction and she grinned, waltzing over to the chair opposite Joan and dropping down onto it. Cherie handed her the drink she made for her and Sandy thanked her politely, taking a sip and screwing up her face as she swallowed.

"You make a stiff drink, man," Sandy said, looking over at Cherie.

"That's not the only thing she makes stiff," Joan said, smiling mischievously.

Sandy laughed and Cherie hit Joan's arm with the back of her hand, a smile playing on her lips. They sat there for a moment, the smiles still lingering on their faces, looking at each other. Cherie and Sandy both thought about the irony of Joan sitting here in this room, completely oblivious to what had just gone on moments before. But Joan was more intuitive than either of them realized, and as she looked casually from one to the other, she could see they were both hiding something. Surprisingly, she didn't feel a stitch of jealousy – not the way she felt when she watched the way Cherie and Scott behaved with one another. She sat back, taking a slow drag off of her cigarette and smiled slightly to herself, imagining the two of them together. She had never thought of Sandy like that – she was more a sister than anything. But she couldn't blame her for it; Cherie was fascinating and even as they sat there quietly she couldn't help but look at Cherie's light hair shining in the afternoon light, her lips curled around the end of a cigarette, comparing it to the way she looked on stage – bold, exaggerated, threatening. But here, she looked so young, so careless. Almost like a totally different person.

Joan reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of dark pills. She placed them on the table and Cherie eyed them deliciously. She reached for them quickly but Joan covered them with her hand.

"Uh uh," she said. "Who said those were for you?"

Cherie cocked her head, taking another drag of her cigarette.

Joan smiled her special smile and picked up two of the pills between her finger. She leaned over toward Cherie and held them in front of her mouth. Cherie watched Joan closely, her insides craving the feeling of those smooth pills sliding down her throat.

"You can have these on one condition," she said huskily, noticing Sandy's look of amusement out of the corner of her eye.

Cherie nodded slowly.

"You have to kiss Sandy," Joan said, bursting into laughter at Cherie's reaction.

Cherie shot a look over at Sandy who shrugged, trying to appear aloof.

"Really?" Cherie asked softly, looking back at Joan.

Joan nodded, pulling the pills into her palm.

Cherie swallow hard, watching the pills disappear and she stood up, walking over to Sandy, leaning down in front of her and kissing her quickly on the lips. Sandy's face broke into a bashful smile and Joan watched, slightly amused.

"No," Joan said, shaking her head. They both looked at her curiously.

"_Kiss_ her," Joan growled.

Cherie inhaled deeply and licked her lips, kneeling in front of Sandy. She put her hands on either side of her face and smiled slightly before pressing her lips against hers. She slid her tongue along her bottom lip before Sandy shoved her own into Cherie's mouth. A slight moan caught in Cherie's throat, surprising her.

Joan clapped, chuckling slightly.

"Okay, okay," she said. "You can have 'em!"

Cherie pulled away and locked eyes with Sandy for a moment, who looked bewildered and a little embarrassed. Cherie stood up, walked over to Joan and took the pills from her open palm. She shoved them quickly into her mouth and chased them with the rest of her drink. She sat back down, leaning back on the couch and closed her eyes.

Joan put her hand on her knee and squeezed it. "Wild girl," she said, smiling. She picked up the other two pills and handed them to Sandy before throwing the remaining two into her mouth, followed by a gulp of her drink. She shuttered slightly at the taste but leaned back in her chair, feeling fuzzy.

"You two fucked, didn't you?" Joan asked, her head tilted back against the chair, eyes closed, breaking the momentary silence.

Sandy and Cherie exchanged a quick glance and then stared at Joan, who was smiling slightly.

"What?" Cherie asked.

Joan opened her eyes and looked at both of them. "I said, you two fucked didn't you?"

Sandy couldn't hide her smile and looked at the ground, embarrassed. Joan glared at Cherie, whose face went bright red.

"Joanie," she said softly.

"I don't care," Joan said quickly. "I'm just making sure."

They sat there in an awkward silence for a moment before Joan grabbed her drink, breezing past the both of them, ignoring Cherie's eyes as they followed her across the room, and walked out, gently closing the door behind her. She rocked the glass in her hand as she sauntered down the hall, feeling the buzz of the booze and the pills already, her shoulders arched forward, stumbling over her feet slightly. She stepped into her room, finishing off her drink and fell backwards on the bed, staring up at the ceiling fan as it spun slowly. She smiled to herself, shoving her hands down the front of her unzipped pants and closed her eyes, letting herself drift into a light, hazy dream.


	8. Chapter 8 Promise

They returned home and took a very well deserved two weeks off. They each relished their time off, but Joan became listless very quickly. She had been writing songs like crazy, anxious to get back in the studio. They met up occasionally to hammer out some tracks on their own, but never all together as a unit. Mostly it was just Joan and Sandy. They never talked about what happened in Japan, never talked about Cherie, but it was all Joan could think about. She missed Cherie, and hadn't really talked to her the whole time she had been home. Of course, Cherie had other things on her mind.

Her father wasn't doing well and she hadn't seen her mother in nearly a year. She barely recognized herself in the mirror and her sister Marie kept asking her what was wrong, but Cherie didn't have the words. Her body was beginning to revolt, and she found herself feeling sick more often than not. She had a difficult time finding Quaaludes and sneaking booze into the house, which was probably half of the issue. Her body ached for that airy feeling of numbness, and while she lied in bed at night, clutching her stomach, her knees curled up beside her, she found herself missing Joan's warm body next to her.

The phone rang next to Cherie's bed and she picked it up, her stomach lurching.

"Hello?" she croaked.

"Cherie?" Joan said softly.

A tiny smile played on Cherie's chapped lips. "Hi Joanie,"

"How you doin'?"

Cherie groaned. "Not great. I think I'm sick. You?"

Joan exhaled. "I'm alright. Feels good to be home,"

Cherie was quiet, stirring slightly/

"I miss you," Joan said, her raspy voice catching in he throat.

"I miss you too, Joanie."

"Maybe I could come over or somethin'. It feels weird not seeing you every day," she chuckled slightly.

Cherie sat up slightly and swallowed hard, feeling very thirsty. "I'm not feelin too great, to be honest. But, I do miss you."

"It's okay, I know how to take care of you by now," Joan smiled.

Cherie laughed slightly. "Okay. If you really want to…it's kinda far,"

"I don't mind," Joan said eagerly.

They hung up and Cherie forced herself out of bed, trudging to the bathroom in an attempt to fix herself up. Joan was there a few hours later and Cherie answered the door, trying to be more cheerful that she really felt. Joan threw her arms around Cherie, who winced, feeling stiff and sore. Joan pulled away and fought the urge to kiss Cherie right there, unsure of who else was home. They sat in Cherie's room, playing records and chatting. Joan glanced around the room, noticing how feminine and innocent it was, like she hadn't changed it one bit from when she was a little girl. Joan smiled as she studied the pictures that lined her dresser, picking one up of Cherie and Marie when they were about 10 years old.

"Wow," Joan said. "You can hardly tell you two apart."

Cherie smiled, laying down on the bed. She closed her eyes slightly, feeling drowsy. She felt Joan crawl beside her and out of instinct, moved closer. Joan's familiar, musky scent made her smile and she turned to look at her. Joan swept a piece of Cherie's blonde hair out of her eyes and let her fingers linger on her face. She noticed a certain emptiness in Cherie's eyes and could tell that she was in pain. She leaned in and kissed her softly, hoping to take some of it away.

Cherie leaned into Joan and felt calmer than she had in a long while. She felt safe again, next to Joan. A breath staggered in her throat and she felt her eyes sting. She pulled away and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to blink away tears. Joan looked at her, concerned.

"Cherie?" she whispered.

But Cherie's whole body shook as she let the wave of sadness wash over her, hot tears streaming down her rosy cheeks, and Joan wrapped her arms around her, letting Cherie cry and cry until she fell asleep. It broke Joan's heart to know Cherie was hurting, she just wished she knew why and how she could fix it. They laid there for awhile, breathing slowly and softly, Joan trailing her hands along Cherie's back. Eventually, Cherie stirred, opening her eyes and peering up at Joan, who tried to smile.

"Cherie," she said, pulling her close. "What's going on inside that pretty head of yours?"

Cherie frowned and sighed, pressing her face into Joan's neck.

"I don't know," she whimpered. "I just hurt all the time."

"Why?"

Cherie sighed. "I don't know. But so far you're the only thing that makes me feel okay."

"Is it the drugs?" Joan asked softly. She had been feeling strung out lately too, but not as bad as Cherie seemed.

Cherie nodded slowly. "That's part of it."

"What else?"

Cherie could feel her hands trembling. "I'm so tired, Joanie. All the time."

"Me too. We've been working hard. It's okay. That's why we have break."

"I still feel tired. And we're going into the studio in a few days, and every time I think of that I feel like I am going to be sick."

"Are you nervous?"

Cherie shrugged. "I'm something."

Joan was worried, more than she had been about Cherie in a long time. She felt her frail body against her own and a million scary thoughts floated through her head. She had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that Cherie and the Runaways were no longer one.

"Don't leave me," Joan whispered.

Cherie's heart ached when she heard that. Joan was always the strong one, and now here she was, vulnerable, scared.

"Okay," Cherie said.

"Promise?"

"Yeah, I promise."


	9. Chapter 9 This is my life

As soon as Joan walked through the door of the studio that morning, she knew something was wrong. She glanced around, noticing the familiar amps, the arrangement of the instruments, and the ragged carpet on the floor. She walked over and sat on the piano bench, staring at the other girls – that is, except Cherie.

Lita flipped through a magazine, a cigarette hanging from her lips loosely, the ash sprinkling down into the crease of the pages. Sandy twirled her drum sticks between her fingers, content with the beat in her head. Jackie sat in the corner filing her nails, looking disinterested and bored. Joan sat hunched over her knees, smacking gum in her mouth loudly. Lita shot her an annoyed look, and Joan blew a bubble, popping it loudly.

"That's really annoying, Joan," Lita said sternly.

Joan shrugged. She sat back, glancing at the clock. Cherie was already 20 minutes late. Kim stormed in, grilling them on where Cherie was but none of them knew. Not even Joan. They sat there for another half an hour before tempers started to rise. Lita was the first to fly off the handle, suggesting they just record the album without Cherie.

"Joan, you can sing the lead vocals. If she's not going to fucking show up on time like the rest of us, then forget her."

Joan sucked in a deep breath and exhaled, reaching for her cigarettes.

"I'm not singing. She'll be here," she argued.

"She's an hour late," Jackie chimed in.

"I realize that, Sherlock," Joan spat back. She lit her cigarette, taking a long drag and exhaling quickly.

Sandy slumped in her chair. "Joan, c'mon. She ain't gonna show."

Joan glared at Sandy. "She'll show."

Kim came bursting in again from behind the glass. "Joanie, you have five minutes to figure out where the fuck your diva lead singer is before I either shut this thing down or one of you dogs are taking the mic," he glared at them, the manic expression daring them to argue.

Joan sighed, following him into the control room and picking up the phone. It rang and rang, with no answer. She was beginning to worry.

"She's not there. Maybe she's on her way. Give her five more minutes. Five minutes, Kim, and I'll sing."

Kim stood over her, his tall lanky frame peering down at her, his arms crossed.

"Five. Fucking. Minutes," he barked.

Joan marched back into the recording room, avoiding all 4 pairs of eyes on her. She picked up her guitar and stood there, her shoulder arched, hair pushed back out of her face.

"Five minutes and then I'm going to sing, alright?" she said in a tone that indicated she didn't want to hear another word about it.

With one minute to spare the door swung open and Cherie walked in. All eyes were on her. She looked skinnier than she ever did, paler than she ever did, and by the look of it, she was on something.

"Oh look!" Lita shouted. "If it isn't little miss sunshine! So kind of you to join us!"

Cherie shot her a dirty look, her eyes swinging slowly over to Joan, who glared at her menacingly.

"Where have you been, Cherie?" she asked slowly.

"Sorry. I lost track of time," Cherie answered.

"Lost track of time? Well we have been here for an hour, you know!" Lita said, taking a step toward Cherie, who just glared at her.

"Lita, cool it," Joan warned. She locked eyes with Cherie and they had one of their private, silent conversations. Joan was angry, annoyed, and disappointed. Cherie was embarrassed and guilty. Joan flexed her jaw, motioning for Cherie to get into the recording booth. Cherie began to walk toward it, teetering slightly in her platform heels, when Lita pushed her as she walked by. Cherie stumbled and Joan shot towards them.

"What the fuck?" she asked sternly, grabbing Cherie's arm.

"I'm sick of this shit," Lita said. "It's like we're the back up band for The Cherie Show. Look at her, Joan! She's a fucking disaster."

Joan glanced sideways at Cherie's face, her eyes were sunken in and they didn't seem to have that sparkle to them anymore. She looked tired, sick, worn-out.

"Cherie, are you okay?" Joan asked.

Cherie nodded slowly, but Joan knew better than to believe her. But there was nothing she could do at the moment. They had a record to cut and Kim was paying through the teeth for this studio.

"You have to get in the booth, okay?" Joan said softly.

Cherie nodded again and walked past her, opening the door to the booth and stepping inside. Joan glanced at the other girls, signalling for them to get ready and they finally began recording.

Joan could hear the disinterest in Cherie's voice and she sang and it bothered her. She tried to overdub with backup vocals but it didn't seem to work. Joan told them to stop, walked over to the booth and climbed inside for a moment.

"Get it together, Cherie," she said sternly.

"I'm trying, Joanie," Cherie replied.

"No you aren't. You can't show up here an hour late, high as shit, and sing like that. You have to fucking _sing_."

"I am singing,"

"You sound like shit,"

Cherie frowned. Joan never talked to her like this.

"Well, I don't feel good,"

"Neither do we, but you don't see us complaining. Sing the goddamn songs like you actually mean it, alright?" Joan stared at her defiantly.

"Alright," Cherie finally replied.

Joan climbed back out of the booth and they started playing again. It still sounded like shit, but there was nothing they could do about it at this point.

After the recording session they all filed out of the studio, silent, each of them unimpressed with their time there. They were each criticizing their own lack of greatness, but mostly their thoughts fell on resenting Cherie. Even Joan's.

Once they got outside, Joan pulled Cherie off to the side. She looked at her for a solid minute before opening her mouth to speak.

"There's something wrong with you, and I want you to tell me what it is right now."

Cherie's mind raced with the words, but she couldn't bring them to her lips. She just shook her head slowly, looking at her feet.

"Cherie Currie, you tell me what's wrong with you right now or shit is going to hit the fan."

Cherie squeezed her eyes tight, summoning the power of the Cherie Thing that made her so strong on stage, and opened her mouth, letting the words fall out like a brick.

"I can't do this anymore," she said. Five little words that scared the hell out of both of them.

"What do you mean?" Joan asked cautiously.

"I can't do this anymore, Joanie. I can't be in this band."

Joan's hands trembled and she dropped her cigarette on the ground. She bent down and picked it up, bringing it to her mouth, stuttering an exhale.

"Why?" she asked quickly.

Cherie just looked at her, trying to fight the burning in her eyes and in the back of her throat. "I just can't. I need to take a break, you know? I need my life back."

Joan sucked in a long, deep breath. She locked eyes with Cherie, anger penetrating their stare. "This is my life," she said slowly.

Cherie looked at the ground, her shoulders shaking as she let the intensity flood her. She couldn't bare to see the look on Joan's face for another minute. She turned on her heels and walked away, ignoring the sound of Joan's shaky voice calling her name. She walked around the building and out onto the street, feeling like she needed to walk away for a long, long time before she was really and truly finished.

Joan stood there, looking at the place that Cherie had just left, feeling like a chunk of her had been ripped right out of her body. She carelessly dropped her cigarette on the ground, watching it as it smouldered on the asphalt before the bright, red cherry faded and disappeared. Joan had been hurt before, wounded, scarred, but in all her young life, she had never felt more betrayed than she did in this very moment.


	10. Chapter 10 The show must go on

Joan cried for days. As soon as she was alone, behind closed doors, she would collapse in a puddle of her own misery. Her body ached by the time she was through; her chest rumbled with the sadness and the anger like thunder and she felt as though every wound she'd ever had was torn open. She was in pain. Angry pain. Pain that ripped through her body like a tornado, sucking her in. She walked around, her shoulders slumped, head down, hands in her pocket, hiding her face with her hair. Her leather jacket and studded belts, her black boots and chains around her neck acted like armour, attempting to protect herself from all the shitty things out there. She swore she would never feel happy again. She was beginning to really fucking hate herself, and tried everything to fix it. She tried drugs, she tried booze, but in the end all it seemed to do was blur her nights and days together to the point where she wasn't even sure what she was doing anymore.

Of course, the Runaways had to continue; the show must go on. But it was a charade. Joan knew it, Sandy knew it, and Lita just didn't care. Jackie had left after Cherie, replaced by another poor bassist who had no idea what she was getting herself into. It was just a job now, a contractually binding job that they had to fulfill.

On the night of her 18th birthday, Joan could feel the Runaways fading. She wanted to cling to the band so badly, but who was a runaway at 18? She was legal now. And no one would take her seriously. She cried when she got home, hot, drunken tears that nearly made her sick. She missed Cherie, which made her angry. Livid. She hated Cherie, hated that she left, that she had betrayed her. She had broken her promise. But it pained Joan to think ill of Cherie. She had been her best friend, her confidant, her lover. She just wished she could go back in time, to the night they first met, when everything was so hopeful, so exciting. Now, it was a fucking mess.

* * *

It had been three years since the end of the Runaways, five since Cherie left. Joan looked back on that time fondly, but she still felt the sting of betrayal and resentment. She was proud of everything they had accomplished, damn proud, but she had moved on. She was starting another band - just her and three guys who understood her vision and shared her passion for rock and roll. She was finally starting to feel honestly happy again, as tough as it was out there for a woman with an electric guitar in her hand. But she didn't care; she hadn't given up before and she sure as hell wasn't going to give up now. She was Joan fucking Jett and she could do anything.

As for Cherie, she never really forgave herself for what she did to Joan, and the band. She didn't regret leaving because she knew she had to get out, but she did regret the way she went about it. She should have told Joan how she was feeling, shouldn't have tried to cover it up with fake smiles and popping pills. Not that that had stopped her now. Her drug addiction was getting a little out of control, to the point that she was worried about not having much money because she was struggling to get enough cash together to feed her addiction. Pills were the least of it - it was the coke that she really wanted. She felt so out of touch with the world, so numb that any thought or trace of pain was instantly diminished with another line, another bump. She was chronically mixed up with the wrong kind of people, particularly the wrong kind of men, and it seemed to be a never ending vicious circle of drugs, money and sex. She was so young and she was already a creep. Rock bottom didn't seem possible for Cherie at this point, it just seemed like she could keep spiraling down forever.

She stood in the small linens shop that she worked in, feeling twitchy and slightly ill as she folded the white, cotton napkins into a neat little pile on the shelf. She bopped her head slightly to the song on the radio, feeling like perhaps she had heard it before. Or perhaps it was just the singer's voice that sounded so familiar. As the song came to an end, she heard the dj re-introduce it as "I love rock and roll" by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts. Cherie's ears perked up, her heart skipping a beat at the sound of her name. The dj said Joan was in the studio with him and introduced her politely. Cherie heard Joan's raspy voice, her cool, confident laugh, and her skin tingled. She felt goosebumps shoot up her arms as she listened to Joan talk about her life now. An overwhelming feeling of sadness came over Cherie as she remembered how much she truly missed and loved Joan. The dj said they were accepting callers and without hesitation Cherie waltzed over to the phone and picked it up, dialing the phone number. She got through surprisingly quickly.

"Hello caller, this is DJ Danny and Joan Jett! What's your question?"

"H-hi, Joanie," Cherie said nervously.

Joan's face dropped in disbelief as Cherie's familiar voice echoed in her ears. "Cherie?" she asked. "How, uh, how ya doin'?"

"Oh, I'm alright," Cherie answered, feeling at a loss for words.

Joan smiled to herself. Cherie Currie, who would have thought? As soon as she heard her voice, she was surprised at how happy it made her. She had spent so much time resenting her and staying angry at her but now it all seemed stupid and petty. It felt good to know she was still out there, somewhere, thinking about her.

"Well, if it isn't Cherie Currie, former lead singer of the Runaways! What a surprise! You two must have so much to talk about!"

There was silence on the line as Joan and Cherie both struggled to find the words.

"Perhaps off the air..." The dj added.

"Well, I gotta go Cherie," Joan said quietly.

"Me too, Joanie," Cherie replied a smile playing on her lips. She hung up, turning up the radio and listening to the rest of the show, hearing the distraction in Joan's voice and hoping that she had the same fluttery feeling in her stomach too.


	11. Chapter 11 25 years later

**A/N: I am not 100% sure I want to keep going in this direction but I thought I would play it out and see how it went. Please review so I can get some feedback on the way this is going! Otherwise, I might re-write it and just end it... thanks!**

**25 years later**

Joan was sitting in a coffee shop, sipping a cup of tea when she felt her cell phone vibrate in her pocket. She pulled it out and noticed an unfamiliar number, recognizing only the area code: it was someone from California.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Joan, hi, this is Floria Sigismondi. I'm a director…well, I'm a new director, and I have a proposition for you. I have been speaking with Kenny Laguna and he advised me to speak with you personally, of course."

Joan listened intently. "Alright," she said.

"Well, I have this vision. This idea. It involves making a film about the Runaways."

Joan chuckled. "Is that right?" she said, sceptical. This was not a new idea, in fact it had crossed her mind several times but it always ended there. Just an idea. This should be entertaining.

"Yes. I've read Cherie's book _Neon Angel_ and this incredible vision came to me. I want to make this movie. I need to make this movie. And the only way I could live with myself is if you are on board. I want you to be the executive producer," Floria paused, trying to hear a hint of reaction.

"Executive producer?" Joan repeated.

"Yes. Joan, this is going to be incredible. The only way this will have even an ounce of credibility is if I can get you to say yes,"

Joan felt a fluttery feeling in her stomach. This was exciting, but also surprising. She made a mental note to yell at Kenny for not giving her a heads up.

"Well, shit," Joan said. "I don't really know what to say. Have you spoken with Cherie?"

Just saying her name made Joan nervous. She hadn't seen Cherie in decades.

"Yes. Briefly. I'm working on script right now but, if I can get you..."

Joan sat there, staring into her tea. Executive producer. That was quite a fancy title.

"Let me think about it. Can you send me the script so far?" she asked.

"I can. But, it's a rough. I need to work out some kinks," Floria replied.

"What about casting?" Joan asked, realizing how important that part was. Forget the script, if the acting wasn't right the whole project was worthless.

"Well, I have two actresses in mind, actually," Floria hinted.

"Who?"

"Kristen Stewart as yourself and Dakota Fanning as Cherie."

Joan laughed. "Dakota Fanning!" she repeated.

Floria laughed as well. "There is a certain quiet intensity to Dakota. I think this would be a fantastic role for her to branch out with."

Joan mumbled in agreement. "Kristen Stewart," she said slowly.

"Yes. I think she really has this edge about her. I don't know, there's something there that just makes sense for me."

Joan had never seen Kristen Stewart act before, but she'd heard the name.

"How old are they?" Joan asked.

"Uh, well. Dakota is about 15 and Kristen is 17 or 18."

"Wow," Joan replied. That was perfect. "Okay, send me the script. This all sound wonderful but, I've tried this before and I just don't know if we can get it picked up…"

"There's already interest. If I can get you on board with this, we have a company. With your name attached, this thing is going to fly, I promise you."

Joan was impressed. Floria certainly made quite a pitch.

"Okay then. Let me read it, and I will get back to you. But, I am very interested. Very."

Floria smiled. "Thank you Joan. Really, thank you. I will send that to you today. We'll talk soon?"

"Yes," Joan replied and they hung up.

This was certainly turning out to be an interesting day.

**3 months later**

Joan sat nervously in the meeting room at Apparation, the production office, in Hollywood. She bounced her knee anxiously, trying to keep her hands still. It had been years since she quit, but something made her want a cigarette. She was about to see Cherie Currie for the first time in 25 years. She didn't know what to expect. Would it be the same? Would it be awkward? Would she be a totally different person?

She heard footsteps down the hall and her heart raced. She loved this feeling. She looked towards the door and felt a sting in the back of her throat as Cherie appeared in the frame. She looked different, older, but still gorgeous. Her long blonde hair was tousseled perfectly, her long legs snug in a pair of dark jeans. Joan's eyes travelled up and down her body quickly, taking it all in. She was so different and yet exactly the same. Cherie's face burst into a huge smile, making her blue eyes sparkle as Joan got up and walked towards her, feeling more drawn to her than she ever expected.

"Wow," Cherie said, her voice sounding so familiar it was almost frightening.

Joan smiled her special smile and Cherie's heart raced, a million memories flashing behind her eyes. Joan threw her arms around her and Cherie felt an overwhelming sense of nostalgia, as she felt Joan's muscular body against hers. She looked incredible, Cherie thought. She'd seen her on TV, seen her in photographs and music videos but nothing compared to the real thing. She felt tears sting her eyes and fought them back, as she ran her hands along Joan's back, feeling the mesh of her tank top against her finger tips. Joan looked sexy as hell, in her tight black jeans, studded boots and black tank top. Her short, dark hair was perfectly messy and her warm brown eyes were mesmerizing. Cherie felt like she was 15 again, meeting Joan for the first time. But there was this air of familiarity between them, like they knew everything and nothing at the same time.

Joan stepped back, Cherie's hand in hers, and admired the fact that she was standing right in front of her.  
"Shit, Cherie," Joan said, her deep, raspy voice making Cherie's smile even wider. "You look incredible." She chuckled.

"So do you," Cherie replied. "You look…like Joan."

They locked eyes for a minute and Joan felt the strangest urge to kiss her, but it quickly faded. She hadn't felt this way in years. They sat down and faced each other, both still smiling, and tried to talk at the same time, laughing. It felt so natural to be together again, like nothing had ever happened.

Floria was purposely late for the meeting in order to give the two of them a chance to catch up. It could have gone horribly wrong, and the two of them could have been awkwardly sitting there for 20 minutes, but something told her that they would need the time, that they would want it. In fact, when Floria finally walked into the room, Joan and Cherie both had this disappointed look on their face for just a split second, knowing they would have to stop their conversation and get down to business. This was a good sign. This was going to be a fantastic movie.

Later that evening, Joan and Cherie met up for dinner and they talked and talked for hours. Neither of them drank, so they sat there having glasses and glasses of water before decided to move their date back to Joan's hotel, since Cherie lived in the valley. They sat on the bed and talked until it was the wee hours of the morning. They had over two decades to catch up on and that's exactly what they did. Instinctually, they sat very close to each other, eventually lying down, their hands finding their way towards each other. It felt so good to be close to each other again, and they never brought up the bad things once. They laughed and reminisced about all their favourite memories, piecing those years together.

"You know, I never had sex ever the way I had sex with you," Cherie said boldly.

Joan laughed. "What? With a girl?"

Cherie shook her head. "No, like the feeling of it. I don't know how to explain it but, it was always different with you."

"Is that a good thing?"

"It's a fucking great thing," Cherie replied, smiling coyly.

Joan looked at her and smiled crookedly. "It's good to see you, Cherie," she said.

Cherie leaned into Joan and hugged her in response. She pulled back and Joan held her there, her heart beating quickly. She felt brutally obvious, but she couldn't help this feeling of closeness she still felt with Cherie. They locked eyes and had, for the first time in years, a silent conversation. Joan licked her lower lip, her hand sliding up Cherie's hip and her eyes asked permission. Cherie squinted at her slightly, her lips curling upward. Joan leaned closer and met her lips, a thousand waves of electricity shooting through her body as she remembered this feeling so well it was almost like living in a memory. The kiss was short, innocent, and it was almost like it washed away all the underlying feelings of resentment, and guilt, and confusion. Everything was just as it was supposed to be.

* * *

"So," Joan mused, watching Kristen Stewart sip on a glass of champagne. "There's only one thing I need to know: are you going to cut your hair?"

Kristen smiled. "Of course," she said simply. She looked at her watch – it was 25 minutes until midnight. She hated New Years Eve; so much anxiety about one split second.

Joan's eyes darted across Kristen's face, and down her long, luscious brown hair. Good. She was committed.

"But, I want to know everything," Kristen said. "I mean, I want to, like, get inside your head."

Joan smiled. "I'll try my best,"

Kristen drained the rest of her drink. She felt kind of bad drinking in front of Joan but, she needed the social lubrication. She was so intimated by the idea of this project and by the fact that she was standing right in front of the woman she had to embody. She had already begun studying Joan's movements and the way she said things. She found it strangely similar to herself. They stood in a similar way, moved their hands similarly and often found the same things funny. She had an instant report with Joan and it made her feel a little more relaxed about the whole thing. Still, there was something incredibly daunting about this project and quite honestly it scared the hell out of her.

"What's your relationship with Dakota like?" Joan asked.

Kristen shrugged. "Well, I mean, we worked together for a bit on _New Moon_ but not that closely. We're friends and everything, but this will be a new dynamic for us,"

"Good," Joan said. "That's good. I'm hoping your friendship will build as you go through this, the way it did with Cherie and I."

Kristen nodded, taking mental notes. Maybe she should stop drinking so she could remember all of this more clearly.

"So, have you and Cherie been friends _all_ this time?" Kristen asked innocently.

"No," Joan replied quickly. We didn't talk for a long, long time after she left the band."

Kristen frowned, surprised by the bluntness of Joan's response.

"There was a lot of things that she and I both had to deal with before we could…" she trailed off. "Anyways, it's good now. Really good. It's hard to believe we're in the same room again, working together. It's like I'm 16 again and we're just doin' our thing, you know?" she smiled, glancing over in Cherie's direction.

"That's so cool," Kristen replied. She looked at her watch again. Twenty minutes.

"You gotta be somewhere?" Joan asked.

Kristen smiled, blushing slightly. "No, I just get really antsy on New Years."

"Why?"

"I dunno. It's just everyone sits around and waits for the change between one second to the next and it's supposed to be this big deal and it's not. It's exactly the same as the minute before and it will be exactly the same as the minute after."

Joan smiled at her scepticism. "A lot can change in one second you know."

Kristen looked at Joan for a minute and smiled. "That's true."

"Someone special going to be calling you tonight?" Joan asked.

Kristen shrugged. "My mom?" She chuckled.

"Okay," Joan said, taking the hint.

"You?" Kristen replied.

Joan winked at her and then looked over at Cherie. "Nope," she said. Cherie looked over at Joan and smiled. Joan turned back to Kristen.

"This is going to be a trip," she said, putting her arm around Kristen's shoulders.

Kristen smiled, wrapping her arm gently around Joan's waist. "Hell yeah."

They gathered around the TV screen in the front part of the loft, Kristen and Dakota standing shoulder to shoulder with Joan and Cherie. The four of them looked at each other as the countdown began.

"10…9…8…" everyone chanted.

Kristen grabbed two glasses of champagne off one of the trays and handed one to Dakota, smiling mischievously.

"5…4…3…2…"

Joan looked at Cherie, their eyes doing all the talking.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

Joan hugged Cherie, pulling back and kissing her quickly, as if it was so normal, so instinctual. They smiled at each other and looked over at Kristen and Dakota who hugged, both taking a sip of their champagne.

"Do you think there's something goin' on there?" Kristen whispered in Dakota's ear, nodding towards Joan and Cherie.

Dakota shook her head. "No. I think they are just two friends who love each other."

Kristen smiled. "You're so innocent,"

Dakota stuck out her tongue. "That's what you think."

They locked eyes for a minute and there was this silent understanding between them, as if they were having a conversation without a single word. Kristen broke the stare first, feeling a heat in her face that she attributed to the alcohol. She glanced over at Joan, who was walking toward her and they hugged quickly.

"Happy New Year, Kristen," Joan said in her husky voice.

"Happy New Year, Joan," Kristen replied, stealing a glance at Dakota.

Joan felt the chemistry between the two instantly and a smile broke across her face, realizing that this was going to be a hell of a lot more interesting that she had expected.


	12. Chapter 12 Bonding

"Oh my god, your hair!" Dakota said loudly, putting her hand over her mouth.

Kristen smiled awkwardly and shook her newly shortened, black hair.

"Does it look okay?" She asked hesitantly.

"Yeah. It looks awesome! But, it's just not the same," Dakota replied gawking at Kristen.

"That's kind of the point, D," Kristen replied jokingly.

Dakota leaned forward and gingerly touched Kristen's hair.

"Wow," she whispered. "You actually look like Joan," she smiled

Kristen beamed. "Then it was worth it."

The door burst open and Joan filled the entrance, her face lighting up at the sight of Kristen.

"Fuck yeah!" She exclaimed, marching toward her and tussling her hands through Kristen's hair. "Has Floria seen it?"

Kristen shook her head. "Dude, my mom hasn't even seen it. She's gonna lose it."

Joan clapped. "It's so badass. You looking fucking awesome."

Moments later Cherie walked in and a smile spread across Joan's face as she watched her reaction.

"Your hair!" Cherie exclaimed, much the same way as Dakota had. She marched over, her heels clicking loudly and stopped in front of Kristen, putting her hands on her shoulders. "Oh, you look amazing. Doesn't she, Joanie?"

Joan grinned, nodding.

"It's uncanny," Cherie added, looking back and forth between Kristen and Joan.

"Isn't it?" Dakota said, agreeing.

Joan slipped her arm loosely around Cherie's waist. "Can we chat outside for a sec?" she asked, nodding towards the door. Cherie followed her out of the room, looking at Joan curiously.

"Everything okay?" Cherie asked.

Joan nodded, standing in front of Cherie, her shoulders arched in that particular way she always had them.

"We haven't really had a chance to talk in awhile," Joan said, looking at her hands. "You know, since this started and we're back together again and everything. I just want to make sure everything is okay between us. It's just been on my mind lately."

Cherie smiled. "Everything's wonderful, Joanie," she said enthusiastically. "I am so excited to be here, doing this movie. I mean, can you believe it? And those two," she pointed to the other room. "They are just so fantastic!"

Joan nodded again, playing with the gum in her mouth. "Yeah, they're really great. Really great."

They looked at each other and Joan's eyes gave everything away.

"Is there something you wanted to talk about in particular?" Cherie asked slowly.

"I can't stop thinkin' about you. I mean, I can't stop thinking about all these years…so much happened, Cherie,"

"But it feels just the same," Cherie added.

Joan nodded slowly. She put her hand on Cherie's face. "You're still that fucking hot, young blonde I met at the Sugar Shack in 1975, to me," she said.

Cherie laughed, putting her hand on top of Joan's. "I'm not that girl anymore, Joanie," she said softly. "I grew up."

Joan dropped her hand, studying Cherie's face. She knew things were different, even if they still felt the same. Cherie had been married and divorced with a kid by now. She lived a totally different life. She wasn't the innocent valley girl who was jaded by the rough and tumble life as a rock star anymore. She was clean, for starters. Not to mention all the things that could have totally fucked her up since they were last together all those years ago. But something deep inside Joan craved Cherie, like a drug. She hadn't felt this in such a long time but it was getting harder and harder to ignore it. Was it the comfort in something familiar? Was it that they had unfinished business? Or was it that Joan, as much as she wanted to deny it, just couldn't keep her fucking eyes off of her? Regardless, it was beginning to distract her and she didn't want it to get in the way, so, in typical Joan Jett fashion, she decided to tackle it head on. She leaned into Cherie, placing her hands on her hips. Her eyes locked on Cherie's glossy lips and she held her mouth inches away, begging for permission.

Cherie stayed very still, thinking about her next move. They had kissed twice since they had been reunited, but they both seemed so right at the time. Now it seemed like it meant something more, like it was purposeful. But, despite her rationalization, she still found Joan extremely sexy and her heart fluttered the way it used to all those years ago. She tilted her head ever so slightly and closed her eyes, feeling Joan's lips against hers. This time it wasn't innocent and polite as it had been before – this was just like when they were horny teenagers, fueling their hormones. A moan rumbled in Joan's throat and Cherie ran her hands along Joan's arms, grabbing her biceps before pushing against her slightly, separating the kiss.

"Joanie," she whispered.

Joan took a step back, embarrassed. She licked her lips and tasted Cherie's lip gloss. She looked up at her and smiled crookedly.

"I just wanted to see somethin'," Joan said, rocking on her heels.

"And?" Cherie asked.

Joan winked at Cherie and moved passed her, back into the other room with Kristen and Dakota. Cherie stood there in the hallway, looking at the place Joan was just standing, her mind racing. She didn't want to complicate things just as this project was about the start but there was something between them still that she couldn't ignore.

Later that evening, Joan and Cherie decided to take the girls out – the whole band: Kristen, Dakota, Scout, Stella and Alia. They sat around a dimly lit restaurant that Joan used to hang out in when she was younger. She ordered a round of beers for everyone, except herself and Cherie, who just had Cokes. All 5 of them eyed Joan suspiciously as she handed out the bottles.

"Joan," Kristen said quietly, leaning into her. "You realized that only 3 of us are legal, right?"

Joan smiled coyly. "Is that right?" she asked, her eyes locking on Dakota, who blushed.

"Well, it's not my fault the waitress didn't card you," she added.

Kristen chuckled and took a sip of her beer, sinking into her seat.

Dakota examined the bottle delicately before taking a sip. She shivered as the cold, bitter liquid touched her tongue. Kristen laughed as she watched her reaction. She leaned into her and whispered in her ear, "Don't drink it if you don't like it,"

Dakota smiled bashfully. "It's okay," she said softly. She looked around the table, locking eyes with Stella, who smiled.

"Alright, so, ladies. Let's shoot the shit," Joan said, leaning back in her chair, examining all of their faces.

Kristen cleared her throat, picking off the label on her beer.

"You know what they call people who peel the labels?" Stella asked, leaning forward across the table.

Kristen smiled slightly and shrugged. "What's that?"

"Sexually frustrated," she flicked her eyebrows, taking a sip of her beer.

Kristen laughed, feeling slightly embarrassed. She looked at Dakota and tore the label off quickly, flicking it at her.

Joan watched their interaction closely, noting their body language and the way their eyes scanned each other so frequently.

Cherie tapped Joan's leg under the table, grabbing her attention. She smiled, raising her eyebrows, flicking her eyes inconspicuously toward Kristen and Dakota.

Joan smiled, nodding slightly, realizing she wasn't the only one who noticed it.

Several rounds later, the girls were loosening up, laughing and joking around with each other effortlessly.

"You know what pisses me off?" Scout said, looking at Joan and Cherie. "That Lita has like 4 lines in the whole movie. I mean, she's the _lead guitarist_!"

"You think you have it bad?" Alia added. "I have two lines! _Two!_ I'm not even a real person!"

Stella laughed, draining the rest of her beer. "Yeah. Well, I have to jack off in the shower so you bitches have it easy."

They all laughed. Joan leaned forward on her elbows.

"I didn't write the script. If I had, it would be very different…and it would totally blow. I write songs, not screenplays," she chuckled. "But, your roles are small because we couldn't get Lita and Jackie to sign the rights over the way we wanted to. We tried, believe me, but it just wasn't going to happen. As for Sandy," Joan looked at Cherie quickly. "Well, sadly, she can't have a say. And believe me, she would have loved this. She probably would have loved this even more than Cherie and I do…"she trailed off, lost in the memory of her friend.

"What happened?" Scout asked softly.

Joan sighed and Cherie put her hand on Joan's leg under the table. "Cancer," she said sullenly.

The table went quiet as they saw the look of sadness wash over Joan and Cherie's faces.

Stella leaned forward. "I'm gonna try really hard to get this right," she said seriously. "I mean, Sandy was so cool. I just want that to come across, you know?"

Joan nodded, trying to lighten the mood with a smile. "I appreciate that, Stella. We both do."

Joan leaned back and waved the waitress over, ordering another round. The girls smiled, all feeling buzzed by now. Kristen leaned into Dakota, whose face was growing pinker and pinker by the minute.

"You alright?"

Dakota nodded, smiling hazily.

"You drunk?" Kristen asked, smiling.

Dakota shook her head.

"You gonna talk?"

Dakota shook her head again, a smile creeping across her lips.

Kristen paused for a moment, her eyes scanning Dakota's delicate face. She looked so young, so innocent. Something inside her wanted to keep it that way, but another part wanted to corrupt her. She felt guilty for thinking that but smiled to herself anyway.

"Let me know if you wanna go home, yeah?" Kristen said, putting her arm around the back of Dakota's chair.

"With you?" Dakota asked quietly.

Kristen laughed. "Sure, if you want."

Dakota nodded, shuffling ever so slightly closer to her.

Kristen drank her beer quickly, feeling very relaxed. Her knee shook slightly as she craved a cigarette more and more each second.

"I'm gonna go grab some fresh air," she said, standing up. She steadied herself; she was a little more drunk than she thought.

"I'll join you," Scout offered and they walked out onto the back patio.

Kristen pulled out a cigarette and offered one to Scout, who took it. Kristen flicked her lighter, touching it to the tip of Scout's smoke before lighting her own. They both exhaled quickly.

"Shit," Kristen said, shifting on her feet. "I've been craving this for like an hour."

Scout smiled, nodding as she took another drag. "Totally."

"But, like, I feel bad you know? Joan and Cherie don't drink and don't smoke any more. And here we are, hammered, and they are just sipping their fuckin' Cokes or whatever."

Scout watched Kristen, trying not to show how excited she was to be hanging out with her. "Yeah, I dunno. I mean, it's weird, right?"

Kristen nodded, taking a drag. "But, I guess they are used to it."

Scout rocked on her heels. "Have they told you guys stuff about themselves?"

Kristen smiled. "Yeah. Obviously."

Scout shrugged. "No, I mean, like, _dirty_ stuff."

Kristen laughed. "Ha! Wow. Uh, well, I mean…sort of."

Scout leaned forward. "Tell me."

Kristen hesitated, taking a long drag and exhaling slowly. "I shouldn't."

"Do it," Scout egged on.

Kristen ran her hand through her hair and took a step toward Scout, speaking softly.

"Alright, she told us that if the sex scene or whatever was closer to real life, it would have to be rated X."

Scout smiled. "Go on."

"Well, I mean. They fucked, like, all the time. Which is weird to think about because Cherie was 15. I mean, imagine Dakota –"

"Ew, don't," Scout said, interrupting her. "I can't think of her like that."

"Right?" Kristen said. "But, I mean, they were like hooking up all the time. They weren't dating or anything. It wasn't official or whatever, they weren't even in love apparently. They just kinda…hooked up. Two chicks, makin' out and playin shows. What more do you want?"

Scout laughed. "Hot," she said, exhaling again before stubbing her cigarette out in the ashtray.

Kristen nodded, doing the same. She grabbed two pieces of gum out of her pocket and they walked back inside. Kristen found herself running her eyes down Scout's body as she walked behind her. She wasn't sure what had some over her lately, but she found herself strangely attracted to all of these girls. Maybe it was just estrogen overdrive, but whatever it was, it was seriously starting to distract her.

Kristen slid into her seat next to Dakota, whose eyes were glassy as hell. Kristen smiled to herself, looking at the ground. Joan leaned into her.

"How's our little cherry bomb doin'?" she asked quietly.

Kristen smiled, licking her lips. "She's doin' just fine."

Joan reached across and put her hand on Dakota's arm, which was draped across the table.

Dakota responded slowly, turning her head to face Joan. She almost swore she could see two of her…

"How ya doin'?" Joan asked, smiling.

Dakota nodded. But her face dropped quickly as a familiar, uneasy feeling washed over her, starting in the pit of her stomach. She looked at Kristen, her eyes wide and Kristen responded quickly, grabbing her by the arm and hauling her to the bathroom which was, thankfully, nearby. Dakota burst into one of the stalls and made it just in time to arch over the bowl and throw up. Kristen looked down at her, grimacing. She walked in behind her and grabbed her long, soft, blonde hair, tying it back with a hair-tie she had around her wrist.

"Saw that one coming," Kristen said, taking a step back.

Dakota slumped over against the wall of the stall and looked up at Kristen, her face suddenly very pale.

"You want some water?" Kristen asked. Dakota nodded and watched as Kristen jolted out of the bathroom. The moment Kristen was out of sight something made Dakota wish she would come back. She liked it better when she was around. A moment later, Kristen burst back in with a cup of water.

"I had to be very sneaky about this," she said, kneeling down and handing Dakota the glass.

She took it, her hands shaky, and drank slowly from it. She felt like shit but Kristen being there made her feel a little bit better, despite being dreadfully embarrassed that she couldn't hold her liquor in the least.

"Sorry," Dakota mumbled, groaning slightly, clutching her stomach.

"It's okay, dude. Really. Happens to the best of us," she smiled weakly, scanning Dakota's face for any signs of a repeat performance.

Dakota closed her eyes, trying to fight the dizzy feeling. She reached out her hand and Kristen took it, locking their fingers together. "Okay?" Kristen asked.

Dakota nodded, her eyes flickering open to look at Kristen's face.

"You're beautiful," Dakota slurred, smiling hazily.

Kristen laughed awkwardly. "Aww, thanks, D. You look really hot right now, too."

Dakota scrunched up her face, closing her eyes, still trying to concentrate on not throwing up again.

"Look, I'm just gonna go out there for a second, okay? I'll be right back," Kristen said softly.

Dakota squeezed her hand. "N-no. Don't go,"

"I'll be right back. I promise," she knelt forward and kissed Dakota's forehead, placing the glass of water beside her before dashing out the door.

Dakota sat there, slumped over, feeling the whole room spin. She felt her insides churn and bent forward, waiting for that awful feeling to come over her again.

"I'm never drinking again," she mumbled to herself before another wave washed over her and she choked out the rest of it.

"Famous last words," Kristen said, reappearing just as quickly as she had left, taking a seat in the doorway of the stall.

"You're back," Dakota said dreamily, feeling slightly better.

"Of course," Kristen replied, holding up the cup of water to Dakota. She took it, sipping it, a smile spreading across her lips.

"Thanks," she said.

Kristen smirked. "It's cool."

They stared at each other for a moment, before Dakota closed her eyes again, summoning the strength to get up. She just wanted to go home to bed.

They sat there for a minute longer, their legs resting lightly against each other and Kristen felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility for Dakota, something she'd never felt before in her entire life. She wanted to take care of her, wanted to stand up for her. She felt like she could protect her. And Dakota sat there, wanting to crawl into Kristen's lap and fall asleep because she liked being close to her – it made her feel safe. She wondered if this was what Cherie was talking about when she told her how she felt about Joan all those years ago – like when she was with her, nothing could hurt her.

Dakota opened her eyes, stirring slightly. "I wanna go home," she said softly.

Kristen nodded, standing up and reaching out to help Dakota up off the floor.

Dakota took her hand, looking up at her and couldn't help but feel, despite the circumstances, like everything was perfect.


	13. Chapter 13 Just friends

Kristen pulled quickly into the parking lot of the recording studio, catching sight of a couple pesky paparazzi who stirred once they recognized her. She sighed, wondering how in the hell they figured out where she was, and grabbed all of her things in her hand – cigarettes, lighter, cell phone, keys – before throwing on her dark sunglasses and briskly walking toward the entrance. She heard the annoying click of the camera shutters and it sounded like black flies buzzing around her head. She scowled slightly, ignoring them and their less than entertaining questions about her personal life. Creeps.

Once inside she scoped around looking for some indication of Joan or Cherie, and when there was none she asked the receptionist if she could sneak out back for a smoke. She stood against the brick, inhaling slowly, brushing her shaggy, black hair out of her face. She felt her phone vibrate in her hand and she held her cigarette between her lips limply while she shifted the items in her hands to look at the screen more closely. It was a text from Joan.

_"Hey – running late. Sorry! Just hang out in the studio, be there asap."_

Kristen sighed, taking a final drag on her cigarette before dropping it on the ground and putting it out with her sneaker. She stood there for a moment before taking another out of the pack, placing it between her lips, and flicking her lighter. She usually didn't smoke cigarettes back to back, but what the hell else was she going to do while she waited? She slid down the wall and crouched slightly, holding the cigarette between her thumb and index finger, watching the smoke filter out into the air. She wished she hadn't left her iPod in the car, but there was no way she was venturing out past those photographers again. Her cell phone rang and she looked down at the call display, smiling as Dakota's picture popped up.

"Well, hello," Kristen said, exhaling.

"I think I'm lost," Dakota said quietly.

Kristen chuckled. "Where are you?"

Dakota hesitated. "Yeah, see that's the problem."

"Don't you have GPS or something?"

"No,"

"Well, tell me where you are!"

"Uh, well, I see, uh…I see a McDonalds. And, oh! Here, the street is called Dresdale Road."

"Turn around," Kristen said, smiling. "You've gone way too far."

"Shit," Dakota said under her breath.

Kristen heard her telling someone to turn back around.

"Who is that?" Kristen asked, studying her cigarette.

"My mom," Dakota replied. "Okay, I think we can figure it out. Thanks. See you soon!"

Kristen hung up and took a long drag off of her cigarette, holding it in her mouth for a moment before inhaling and exhaling quickly. She flicked the cigarette away from her and grabbed the things, standing up and walking back inside, deciding to wait for Dakota in the lobby. She popped a piece of gum in her mouth – a habit she had picked up because Joan was always chewing gum. She smiled weakly at the receptionist and sat down in the leather chair across her desk, picking up a magazine and sifting through it. She rolled her eyes at the article titled "The Ultimate Bachelor: Team Edward vs Team Jacob."

She looked up as she saw the door open in her peripheral, and couldn't help the grin that spread across her face as she saw Dakota walk in, her long blonde hair perfectly straight, wearing jeans and a Bowie tshirt.

"Hey you," she said, smiling.

"Nice shirt," Kristen said, nodding.

Dakota laughed. "This is me method acting. Is it working?"

Kristen smiled, biting her lip. "Yeah totally."

"Where's your mom?" Kristen asked, sitting back.

"Why? Did you want to meet her?"

Kristen shrugged.

"Well, maybe when you drive me home you can meet her."

"Oh, I'm driving you home am I?" Kristen asked, smiling.

"Yes please," Dakota answered sweetly.

Kristen tapped Dakota's shin playfully with her foot. "Joan's running late," she said. "And I guess that means Cherie is too."

"Cherie isn't coming to the studio today," Dakota replied.

"Why not?"

Dakota shrugged. Kristen frowned, wondering what exactly could be keeping Cherie from this.

"I'm nervous," Dakota said, putting her hands between her knees. Kristen nodded in agreement.

"At least you've sang before," Dakota said.

"When?" Kristen asked.

"In _Into the Wild._"

"That was different."

"How?"

"Tracy wasn't standing right there watching me do it."

Dakota smiled. "But, you have a deep voice like Joan's. I have this girly voice compared to Cherie."

Kristen blew a bubble with her gum and snapped it. "You'll be great."

They sat there quietly for a moment, stealing glances at each other. Dakota felt painfully obvious when she was with Kristen, yet at the same time totally relaxed. She was still slightly embarrassed from her behaviour the other night, but she knew Kristen didn't care.

Kristen, on the other hand, was trying to figure out what was going through her head lately. She felt like she wanted to be around Dakota every waking moment just to make sure everything was okay. When she was in the same room as her, she found it hard to focus on anything else. She felt guilty for thinking like that, kind of like a creep. But it wasn't really about that. She just felt completely and totally normal around Dakota.

Joan waltzed in, dressed head to toe in black, a coffee cup in her hand, pushing her dark sunglasses on top of her head.

"Sorry," she said, smiling slightly as she stood in front of them.

"No worries," Kristen and Dakota said simultaneously, laughing at their timing.

"You two ready to be rock stars or what?" Joan asked, smiling.

Kristen shrugged, standing up. "Sure," she said quietly.

"You're going to have a little more enthusiasm that than, Kristen," Joan replied.

Kristen gritted her teeth, jumping on the spot and grabbed her hair in her hands. "Fuck yeah!" she yelled, laughing awkwardly at her self.

Dakota giggled.

"That's more like it," Joan said, turning on her heels. They followed her into the studio, their hands brushing against each other, their hearts beating quickly as they tried to keep their cool. That was far more difficult than they had ever expected.

* * *

"Can I ask you a personal question?" Joan said as they ate lunch together, surveying the response on Kristen's face.

Kristen shifted slightly in her seat across the table. "Shoot."

"What's going on between you and Dakota?"

Kristen laughed nervously. "What?"

"It's just that I have noticed this kind of vibe between the two of you. It's hard to ignore."

Kristen ran her hand through her hair, perplexed. "Are you serious?"

Joan nodded, slowly, sipping her water.

"N-nothing. We're friends. She's 15!"

Joan chuckled. "Okay, okay. I'm just askin'. Sorry, it's none of my business, anyway."

Kristen sat back in her chair, arms across her chest.

"I'm sorry if I've offended you," Joan said, reading Kristen's body language.

"You haven't," Kristen replied quickly.

"It's okay if you've thought about it, you know," Joan said, breaking the silence that fell between them.

Kristen shot her a daring look. "Thought about _what?_"

Joan looked at Kristen, a crooked grin creeping across her lips. Kristen just started back, knowing exactly what she was talking about but not daring to communicate it.

"Joan, c'mon," Kristen said quietly, leaning forward. "It's not like that."

Joan nodded. "Okay," and she left it at that.

Later on that evening, Kristen sat in her room trying to master the guitar chords Joan had shown her earlier. She had to play while they filmed and had been studying video after video of Joan playing in order to get it just right. She heard her phone vibrate and looked over at it. It was a text from Dakota.

_"Hey. Whatcha up to?"_

Kristen smiled slightly and typed back.

_"Trying to master these songs. You?"_

_"Nothing. Bored. Randomly craving ice cream. Interested?"_

_"Hmm. Maybe. Can we get PinkBerry?"_

_"Totally. Pick me up?"_

_"Be there in 20."_

Kristen put her guitar down and grabbed a hoodie off the back of her chair. She glanced at herself in the mirror quickly and ruffled her hair, throwing the hood over it, shoving her feet into a pair of sneakers, and dashing out the door. She pulled up to Dakota's house and debated whether she should go to the door. She decided to be polite and go in to get her. She knocked on the door, shoving her hands in her pockets as she waited. Moments later, the door swung open and Dakota stood there, a smile on her perfectly made up face.

"Hey," she said cheerily, grabbing her jacket and closing the door behind her.

"No one home?" Kristen asked as the walked to the car.

Dakota shook her head. "Just me."

"I wanted to meet your mom," Kristen joked.

"Why do you want to meet her so bad?"

"I dunno. I guess I wanna see how far the apple falls from the tree," Kristen stuck out her tongue, climbing into the driver's seat.

They drove quietly listening to music. Dakota sifted through Kristen's iPod.

"Don't judge me," Kristen said, glancing over at Dakota.

"You have way more music than I do!" she said, scrolling through the endless lists of artists. She selected a new song, and put the iPod down beside her.

"You like The Smiths?" Kristen asked, slightly surprised.

"I love Morrissey," Dakota replied, sitting calmly in her seat.

Kristen smiled to herself, happy that Dakota had picked this song. They wove through traffic, sitting quietly, letting the song tell its story. Dakota snuck her hand slowly underneath Kristen's as it rested on her leg at a red light. Kristen wrapped her fingers lightly around Dakota's tiny hand, never taking her eyes off the road, afraid that if she looked her in the face, it would ruin the moment. She could feel Dakota's eyes on her and a warmness flooded her cheeks. She let go of her hand as the light turned green, putting it back on the wheel, instantly wishing she had just kept it there. Dakota retreated her hand, placing it in her lap. Kristen looked sideways at her.

"You're cute," she said, pulling into the parking lot.

Dakota blushed, looking at her hands. "Thanks."

She cut the engine and turned to look at her. "Joan asked me something fucking weird today," she said.

Dakota frowned. "What did she say?"

Kristen hesitated for a moment before letting the words tumble out of her mouth. "She asked me if there was something going on between us." She laughed awkwardly.

A coy smile spread across Dakota's face. "Something like what?"

Kristen shrugged. "I don't know. Something like, that we have a crush on each other," she felt more and more uncomfortable talking about it, wishing she hadn't brought it up.

Dakota's face went bright red. "A crush?"

Kristen ran her hands through her hair. "Yeah, I told her she was being weird. But, like, I just don't know why she would say that."

Dakota shrugged. "Maybe we do."

Kristen flicked her eyebrows. "We do?"

Dakota turned slightly. "It's innocent. I'm only joking." She reached for the door and Kristen grabbed her arm, locking eyes with her.

"Dakota, we're just friends."

Dakota's eyes widened slightly, a look of confusing on her face. "Yeah, I know."

"You're only 15," Kristen added.

"And what if I wasn't?" Dakota asked softly.

Kristen stared at her for a moment. "But, you are." She let go of her arm, and turned quickly, getting out of the car. She walked around, the front, grabbing a cigarette out of her back pocket. Dakota sat there for a moment, confused about their conversation, before getting out of the car and following Kristen's smoky scent into the shop. She wasn't sure if the conversation was good or bad, but either way it was certainly replaying over and over again through both of their minds.


	14. Chapter 14 Dreams and Drinks

"Joanie," Cherie's young voice croaked. "Joanie, help me."

Joan's mind raced as she slept, her dreams more vivid than she'd had in a long time.

"I want you, Cherie," Joan could hear herself say, echoing slightly.

"I'm not that girl anymore."

There were just segments of words floating through her mind, sporadic images of her memories, twisted and contorted by the illusiveness of her subconscious.

Joan jolted awake, her eyes adjusting quickly to the darkness. She clenched her jaw, running her hand through her hair. Another night that she dreamt of Cherie. Over the years, the occasional Cherie dream would have floated through her head, but it had been almost every night now. And every time she woke up, Joan felt this painstaking knot in her stomach, a mix between anxiety and desire. She got up and had a glass of water, trying to shake the images out of her head. She didn't like these dreams – they brought back too many distant memories that Joan had promised herself she had gotten over. She dreamt of the first time she and Cherie had sex, the whirling uneasiness of the drugs at the time making it difficult to remember when she was awake. But in her dreams, Cherie was so real it was almost painful to see her, young and naïve. Her shaggy blonde hair sticking to her face as she slithered beneath her, Joan's eyes scanning her constantly. She could see the pain in Cherie's eyes the day that she quit the band, or the way she looked when she cried. Joan didn't want to have these memories painted so vividly any more. She didn't know why this was happening.

Over the past few weeks, Cherie and Joan had either spoken to or seen each other every day. After nearly 30 years of no communication with someone, this was overwhelming. They didn't really talk about their kiss, not because they didn't want to, but because they hadn't found the time. They were both running around like chickens with their heads cut off, trying to get this movie together as well as the hundreds of other things going on in their lives. But when Cherie walked in the room, Joan felt a sense of balance. They would often exchange a look with each other that made everything seem normal, like they both knew what the other was thinking. Joan was glad they still had that connection.

For Cherie, having Joan back in her life meant a million different things. It brought up a lot of old memories that still hurt her, but it also brought a sense of excitement back into her life that she hadn't really had for a long time. When Joan was in the room, Cherie was calm, collected. The moment she left, Cherie felt this underlying sense of unease. It was frustrating because it made her feel like that 15 year old valley girl that tried to be tough but was screaming on the inside; the girl that followed Joan around like a puppy because she was the only one who understood her; the girl that felt safest when she was lying, standing, singing next to Joan. But, she had grown up and a lot of things had happened since then, things that Joan could never understand, and to feel like she did all those years ago made her wonder how much she had really changed.

Joan sat in the coffee shop waiting for Cherie. She sipped her drink, casually peering out the window for any signs of her. Finally, she saw her blonde hair glimmering in the California sunlight. A smile played on Joan's lips as she waved at her. Cherie gave her a hug before sitting down across from her.

"How's it goin?" Joan asked.

Cherie smiled. "It's going. What's up?"

They chatted for a few minutes, Cherie excusing herself to get a cup of tea. They talked about their day, the film, about nothing in particular. The conversation was so effortless between them – they always had something to talk about.

Joan leaned forward, her hands wrapped around the warm coffee cup. "Cherie, I've been havin really intense dreams lately." She smiled slightly, changing the subject.

Cherie frowned. "About what?"

"About you," Joan said definitively.

A smile spread across Cherie's face. "And what happens in these dreams?"

"Depends," Joan said hoarsely. "Sometimes it's almost like a memory and sometimes its stuff that's never happened before, but you're always there. I…I just…I'm not really sure what to do about it."

"There's not really much you can do about it, Joanie," Cherie replied. "Why do you look so serious about it? It's just dreams."

Joan sighed. "Cherie, you're _all_ I can think about." Even when they were in the Runaways together, Joan had never been this honest about her feelings with Cherie.

Cherie swallowed, studying Joan's face. "Joanie, c'mon," she said softly.

"What am I supposed to do, Cherie?" Joan asked, practically in a whisper.

Cherie tilted her head slightly, her blue eyes darting across Joan's face. "I guess we should talk about this, huh?"

Joan sighed. "Is it just me? Am I the only one who feels this thing?"

Cherie sat back in her chair, sipping her tea. "No," she said softly.

"I mean, it's fucking with me. It's been all these years but I swear to God, it's like you never left. Like you never…" Joan trailed off, hesitant to bring up all the painful memories.

"We can't pretend that none of that happened," Cherie said. "We were so young back then. We were wild, we were just thrown into the most ridiculous situation that I look back on and scratch my head about. I barely survived, Joan. It literally almost killed me. That's a big deal."

Joan clenched her jaw. "A lot of shit has happened, I know. I'm not the same 16 year old punk that I was either. I'm all grown up now too," she smiled weakly. "But, when you walked into the room that first time I saw you again…shit, Cherie. I was practically shaking."

Cherie smiled. "So was I."

"And when I kissed you," she looked at Cherie, trying to gauge her reaction. "it just felt so fucking good, you know? It felt like…I felt like a kid again."

Cherie laughed. "We can't let this complicate things. I mean, this project means the world to me and to those girls and if we try and fuck with the dynamic as it is… it could get pretty ugly."

"I'm not asking you to marry me, Cherie," Joan said, smiling. "I'm just asking you if it's okay that we kissed."

Cherie looked at Joan for a moment, their eyes locked. She admired how warm Joan's brown eyes were, like melted chocolate. She wanted to stare at them forever, and it brought her back to the intensity of their youth spent trying to figure out exactly what they hell they were doing. She placed her hand gently over Joan's on the table. "Of course it's okay."

* * *

Kristen stared into the bottom of her glass as she filled her mouth with the last of her beer. She never liked drinking alone, but Scout had canceled on her and she was already 2 beers in – what's to stop her now? She swayed slightly as she listened to the music playing loudly from the stereo – _Rebel, Rebel_ by David Bowie. She sang along as she cracked open another bottle, watching the golden liquid fill her glass. She stared at her phone for a minute, half daring herself to call someone – someone in particular. But what fun would that be, three drinks in, inviting someone like her over. She probably wouldn't even have a drink; she was such a good girl. Maybe she could be convinced…

She put her phone down and shook her head, heading out onto the back deck for a smoke. She sat there, inhaling and exhaling, watching the cloud of grey smoke billow out in front of her. She stubbed the cigarette out, reaching into her pack and pulling out a joint she had rolled earlier. She lit it, taking a long drag, tasting the sweet smoke on her tongue, and exhaled, feeling the burning in her lungs. She took a sip of her beer, looking out into the distance, trying to think of absolutely anything else except _her._

She could feel her head become fuzzy and she smiled to herself, letting the light-headedness take over. She held the smoke in her mouth, letting it float out slowly before sucking it back in. She closed her eyes for a minute, letting the high wash over her, clouding her thoughts, when she heard the door open behind her. She whipped around and saw Dakota standing there. Her heart raced and she quickly ashed the joint out on the table.

"Uh, hi," Kristen said, surprised.

Dakota smiled, realizing what Kristen had been doing. "Sorry, I was in the neighbourhood and I thought I would drop by."

Kristen ran her hand through her hair, taking a sip of her beer, trying to calm herself down. She didn't like to be high around Dakota – she felt awkward and entirely too obvious.

"No, that's cool. I was just, uh, having a smoke. Did you want a drink?"

Dakota looked at Kristen's glass quickly. "Sure."

"Anything in particular?" Kristen asked.

"I'll have what you're having," Dakota replied, smiling innocently.

Kristen flicked her eyebrows, intrigued by her response. She nodded toward the kitchen and they walked in, Kristen trying to keep her eyes off of her. The room felt very bright now, and she turned down the music. Her eyes were squinting slightly, and she knew she looked stoned as hell. She got a beer out of the fridge and poured it into a glass, sliding it over to Dakota who was leaning against the counter.

"Thanks," she said, smiling.

"Yep," Kristen replied, her mouth feeling dry. She took a sip of her beer, rocking slightly on her heels.

"What have you been up to?" Dakota asked, looking around the kitchen.

"Nothing, really. Scout was gonna come over, but she bailed."

"That sucks," Dakota said, taking a sip of her beer. She made a face. She was trying very hard to acquire the taste for beer, but it wasn't easy.

Kristen smiled, looking at the ground. _You Drive Me Wild_ came on through the speakers and they both chuckled slightly, thinking of Joan.

"I like this song," Dakota said.

"Me too. It was the first song she ever wrote, apparently."

Dakota smiled. "It's good." She took a step toward Kristen.

"I'm sorry," Kristen said, clearing the throat. "I'm, uh, I'm kind of stoned."

Dakota laughed. "I know. It's okay." She leaned toward Kristen and their shoulders were touching now.

Kristen could smell Dakota's perfume – it was soft and feminine. She loved it.

Dakota took a sip of her beer, and they stood there quietly, the only sound coming from the stereo. They began chatting about nothing in particular as they drank, reminiscing about their first few weeks on set.

Kristen felt a little drunk now, and her head clouded over. She pressed slightly against Dakota playfully, biting her lip. Dakota put her now empty glass down and looked over at Kristen, staring into her piercing green eyes.

"I have to tell you something," she said softly, feeling slightly lightheaded.

Kristen swallowed hard, feeling like everything was echoing. "What?"

"I really, really want to kiss you." Dakota blushed, looking at the ground quickly after she said it.

Kristen laughed awkwardly. "Umm," she said, not sure how to respond. "I don't know if that would be such a good idea."

Dakota swayed slightly, her arm grazing by Kristen's. "Not everything has to be a good idea."

Kristen looked up at Dakota quickly, realizing how close they really were now, and her heart slammed against her chest. She felt guilty for wanting it too, but her shyness was fading away and she slowly placed her hand on Dakota's hip, lacing her fingers through her belt loop.

Dakota felt the heat in her face as her heart raced. She could smell the smoke on Kristen's clothes but she liked it – it was cool and sweet. She stood very still, not sure what to do next. Kristen leaned into her and they both closed their eyes, their lips meeting for a single second before they both pulled away, realizing what was happening.

Kristen let go of Dakota quickly, feeling embarrassed.

"That was weird," Kristen said, looking away.

Dakota stood there, feeling uncomfortable. "It was, like, one second."

Kristen nodded, taking a sip of her beer. "Shit," she mumbled.

Dakota stood there thinking about when Cherie had told her about the first time she and Joan had kissed – it didn't happen quite like this. Dakota looked up at Kristen, wishing she could read her mind.

"I'm sorry," Dakota said slowly.

Kristen looked at her, feeling instantly guilty. "N-no. Don't be sorry. It's not that, it's just…I, uh…" she struggled to find the words, feeling nervous and tongue-tied, like she was in an interview.

"It's okay. You don't have to – "

"Dakota," Kristen said softly. She liked the way her name sounded on her tongue. "This is just a little intense right now. Like, fucking intense. I'm just trying to wrap my head around this."

Dakota nodded, shifting on her feet. "It was just a tiny kiss."

Kristen winced. "I know, but…I can't. I'm sorry, I can't."

They were quiet for a moment. Dakota, feeling confused and slightly bolder than usual, broke the silence. "Why not?"

Kristen sighed. She just looked at Dakota, hoping she understood without her having to say it. Dakota just stared back at her curiously.

"Look, if things were different…" Kristen started.

"You mean, if I was older?" Dakota interjected.

Kristen took a deep breath. "You have to understand," she said.

"That's not fair," Dakota said seriously.

"What's not fair?"

"You can't…you can't treat me the way you do and then just…just say something like that. I'm not a toy, you can't just play with me."

Kristen frowned. What the hell was she talking about?

"What?" Kristen asked, confused.

"The way you look at me, the way you talk to me and touch me all the time. You're always taking care of me, even when I don't need it, and you just…it's not _fair_." Dakota crossed her arms.

Kristen's mouth fell open slightly. She wished she was a little more sober for this conversation. "Dakota, what are you –"

"Stop," Dakota said, cutting her off. "Don't pretend you don't know."

They stared at each other for a solid minute, Kristen trying to figure out how the conversation got so intense and Dakota challenging her on it.

Kristen had no idea how to respond – her mind was racing trying to figure it out. But, the same thing kept popping into her head and she continued to push it out: she wanted to kiss her again. She wanted to push the limits and see what would happen, but she was just so fucking _young_…

Kristen shook her head slightly, taking a gulp of her beer before collapsing the space between them, her lips crashing against Dakota's in a truly spontaneous gesture. Dakota resisted at first from the surprise but she leaned into the kiss and a wave of excitement washed over her and she got what she wanted. Kristen held Dakota's hips lightly in her hands, trying to take it slow. She was used to a kiss never just ending as a kiss anymore but didn't know what the hell she was doing now. She was cautious, trying not to take control even though she felt like the more dominant one. She couldn't help but notice how different it felt to kiss a girl – it was softer, and her lips were smaller. She kind of liked it. She felt Dakota's tongue touch her bottom lip ever so slightly and she slid her own across it. This was actually quite a good kiss, Kristen thought to herself as she fought the urge to take it further. She pulled away, looking at Dakota's rosy face, her eyes still closed as she lingered in the moment. Kristen dropped her hands from Dakota's waist, and shuffled awkwardly on her feet. A smiled crept across Dakota's lips and she just stared at Kristen, feeling this unbelievable affection toward her. Kristen met her eyes and a tiny grin played on her mouth, though she tried to hide it.

"Shit," Kristen said under her breath. "I need a cigarette."

Dakota nodded, following her outside. They sat on the stairs, their legs touching slightly and Kristen lit a cigarette, trying to keep the smoke away from Dakota.

"Can I have one?" Dakota asked quietly.

"No," Kristen replied sternly.

"Why not?"

Kristen looked at Dakota. "Smoking is bad for you."

"Then why don't you quit?"

"Because I'm an idiot."

Dakota smiled and rolled her eyes.

They sat there quietly for awhile, the turn in the evening's events replaying in both their minds. Dakota sat there pleasantly satisfied, but Kristen was feeling guilty, selfish and a little perverted. A sense of unease washed over her, which she attributed to her tendency to get paranoid when she was high. She watched the red ember of her cigarette glow as she inhaled, blowing smoke out into the air above her head.

"I don't know what to say," Kristen said, breaking the silence.

"You don't have to say anything," Dakota replied sweetly.

"I shouldn't have done that. I'm…fuck. I don't know why I did it."

"You don't have to apologize," Dakota turned to face Kristen. "I wanted you to do it."

Kristen made an uncomfortable face. "We can't do this," she stubbed out her cigarette on the steps.

"Do what?" Dakota asked innocently.

Kristen looked at her and found herself studying Dakota's delicate face. She glared right into her big, blue eyes and tore herself away, afraid that she wouldn't be able to say what she knew she had to if she kept looking.

"We aren't Joan and Cherie," Kristen said softly, picking at the loose strands of denim on the cuff of her jeans.

Dakota laughed slightly. "Yeah, I know that."

"I mean, we aren't the way they were. It's not the same thing," Kristen struggled to be articulate.

Dakota put her hand on Kristen's arm. "You're over-thinking it," she said.

"No, I'm not. Dakota, we can't just…make out. We are just friends…"

"No we aren't," Dakota shot back. "We're more than friends whether you like it or not. We're different with each other than we are with other people, and you know it. Admit it, you like me."

Kristen glared at the look of amusement on Dakota's face.

"Of course I like you…"

"No. You _like_ me, like me," Dakota added.

Kristen hesitated for a moment. She couldn't bring herself to say it. "Dakota, you're my friend and yes, I think you're gorgeous but, I've had a few drinks and I'm stoned and I just…it just fucking happened and it shouldn't have. That's it." She stood up, avoiding the look on Dakota's face and walked back inside. Her heart was racing and she felt instantly guilty for lying and for being a bitch about it. Dakota walked in a moment later.

"I should go," she said, her voice shaky.

"Shit," Kristen muttered under her breath. She took a step toward Dakota. "Please, don't be upset. I…fuck," she said as she saw Dakota's shoulders shudder. She put her hand on her arm, trying to look at her face. "Please, don't cry. I didn't…I'm stupid. We just…please, let's talk tomorrow. I don't want to make you cry, please…"

Dakota sighed, looking up at Kristen, fighting tears with every cell in her body. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for the drink," she tore away from Kristen's touch, walking to the front door and closing it gently behind her.

Kristen stood there, feeling the emptiness in front of her and felt like she was going to be sick. The last thing she ever wanted to do was make Dakota cry. She trudged up to her room, crawled into bed and hoped that in the morning everything would somehow miraculously be better.


	15. Chapter 15 Good Talk

**A/N: So, I just noticed Ch. 13 had the wrong file uploaded - my bad! Fix it, please check it out! Sorry the for the confusion!**

Kristen sat in the trailer wailing on the guitar she had to play on screen. She pressed her sore fingertips into the strings, trying to get the fast paced riff of _California Paradise_. The sweat was beading on her forehead; it was easily 100 degrees in there and it wasn't much better outside. She slid her fingers from one fret to the next, an instant sharp pain catching her off guard and she quickly noticed she had split her index finger open.

"Motherfucker!" she yelled loudly, shoving her finger in her mouth. Joan, who was standing outside on the phone, popped her head in the trailer curiously.

"You alright?" she asked, shoving her phone in her back pocket.

Kristen nodded, still sucking on her finger. "Yeah. Peachy."

"Split a finger?" Joan said, coming inside the trailer, a slight look of amusement on her face.

Kristen nodded, looking at her finger before shaking her hand. "Yeah, and it fucking hurts like hell!"

Joan laughed. "You get used to it. Here, let me see." She sat next to Kristen, taking her hand gently in her own, moving it slightly to get a better look. Blood had filled the cut once more and it began seeping out slightly.

"You'll be fine," Joan said reassuringly. "Just go rinse it under some cold water, slap a Band-Aid on it and you'll be good as new."

Kristen put her finger in her mouth again, tasting the metallic flavour of her wound. She got up and walked to the sink which spat water out at her, placing her finger under the tap, enjoying the coldness against her skin. She turned the water off and walked back over to where Joan was sitting, holding the guitar. She smiled slightly, noticing how natural it looked in Joan's hands, like it was part of her body. She rifled through her backpack looking for a Band-Aid, but saw Joan reach out to her with one between her fingers.

"Occupational hazard. I always have some one me," Joan said, smiling.

Kristen took it, nodding in appreciation, and tore it open. It was bright blue.

"You expect me to wear this on camera?" Kristen said, laughing slightly.

Joan nodded. "Sure, why not?"

Kristen shrugged, wrapping the sticky bandage around her finger. "It might throw off Floria's whole shot. You know how fuckin' picky she is about colours and shit," Kristen scrunched up the wrapper and stuffed it in her pocket. She wiggled her finger slightly, feeling the tightness of the bandage around it.

Joan laughed and handed the guitar back to Kristen, who took it reluctantly, placing the strap over her shoulder and letting the damned heavy thing hang around her, resting just below her hips.

"You know, you looked good with that thing," Joan said, looking up at Kristen.

Kristen smiled bashfully. "Not as good as you do," she said quietly.

Joan chuckled. "Nah, it looks natural. Even the way you let it hang low like that, like I do. And that thing is heavy, man. You're a lot smaller than I ever was, too!" she laughed her familiar, throaty laugh.

Kristen rocked her hips slightly, feeling the wood against her pelvis. She smiled to herself, holding the neck of the guitar in her hands, a slight throbbing in her finger still. She played a chord, wincing slightly at the pain, but tried not to let it show – Joan wouldn't wince. She would just fuckin' keep playing.

Joan watched Kristen play for a moment, admiring her dedication and sincerity. She saw a lot of herself in Kristen, though of course there were many differences, but she was truly and honestly happy that she had been cast to play her. There was something there, a connection they had – they just understood where each other was coming from. It was nice to have that between them, nice to know that they had this figured out.

"How's Cherie?" Kristen asked nonchalantly as she played.

Joan smiled slightly. "She's good."

Kristen caught sight of Joan's playful smile and stopped playing, examining the look on her face.

"What?" Joan asked.

"Nothing. Just the way your whole face lights up when I say her name."

Joan laughed, rubbing her hands together. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Kristen grinned. "Must be nice to have her back, huh?" she strung a chord again, trying to keep the mood casual.

Joan nodded. "Yeah, real nice actually. It's like nothing has changed. It's fucking crazy."

Kristen smiled slightly. "Cool. Had it really been that long since you'd seen each other?"

Joan sighed. "Yep. Hard to believe. We were best friends, man. More than friends. We were each other's rock, you know? It was really fucked up when she left. Really fucked up."

Kristen sat down beside Joan, watching her, wanting to know everything. "Did you guys, like, talk at all afterward?"

Joan shook her head. "No, not really. Maybe once, or twice."

"What was it like to see her again?" Kristen asked, pulling out her pack of cigarettes. "Do you mind?" she added, motioning toward her cigarette. Joan shook her head.

"It was wild. I mean, really wild. I was nervous as shit to see her again. But she walked in and it was like my heart stopped beating, you know? And instead of feeling uneasy, or awkward or anything like that, I felt totally and completely calm. It was surreal."

Kristen nodded, her head slightly tilted in curiosity. "What did you even talk about?"

Joan laughed. "Oh god! Cherie and I never had a problem holding a conversation with each other. We just jumped right into it. It was like we were right back to beginning, just chatting and laughing. It was like nothing changed, even though so much has. We still finish each other's sentences and…well, we have this thing where we can look at each other and pretty much know exactly what the other is thinking. We just have this…_connection_."

The way Joan said that made something click inside Kristen's head. Everything Joan was saying made so much sense to her – she felt the same way with Dakota.

"Was it always…you know…sexual?" Kristen asked slowly, unsure if she was prying too much.

"Pretty much, yeah" Joan said, not hesitating for a moment. "I mean, the first time I met Cherie I was attracted to her, sure. I wasn't really sure what it meant at first, you know, I was 16 and I just kind of thought everyone was cool. But then Cherie and I just sort of gravitated to each other naturally and, I guess, one thing led to another…" Joan trailed off, smiling slightly to herself as she propelled herself through a distant memory.

Kristen swallowed hard as she watched Joan. "W-what, uh, what was it like?" Kristen stuttered, slightly embarrassed.

Joan laughed. "It was amazing. It was honestly the reaslest thing I had felt probably ever in my young life. I'd been with guys before and I guess it was okay, but with Cherie it was so different, you know?"

"No, I don't know actually," Kristen said, smiling awkwardly.

Joan smiled in that familiar way as she looked at Kristen's innocent face. "Well, anyways. It just felt like all this sexual energy had built up between us and one day we finally let it out and it was like a thousand explosions happening at once. I just remember thinking that this was what it was supposed to be like. That this was what everyone kept talking about…"

Kristen cleared her throat, feeling awkward and slightly uncomfortable thinking about Joan and Cherie in that way.

"Haven't you ever felt that way?" Joan asked slowly. "With anyone?"

Kristen nodded slowly. "Yes. I…I like sex. Like, a lot." She laughed slightly.

"Good," Joan said.

They sat there for a moment, a pause in the conversation coming over them. Kristen still held the guitar and her hands and she plucked the strings aimlessly, feeling the awkwardness of the silence.

"Have you ever, you know, thought about girls before?" Joan asked suddenly.

Kristen blushed slightly. "Uh..well..like, sexually?" she said, playing dumb.

Joan smiled and nodded.

"Well, I mean, I think girls are sexy, sure. Some are really fuckin sexy, actually, but…I dunno..I guess, maybe once or twice the thought crossed my mind…" Kristen stammered, trying not to sound like an awkward thirteen year old.

"It's okay, you don't have to be embarrassed," Joan said softly. "I was just curious. I'm sorry if that made you feel uncomfortable. It's none of my business."

Kristen swallowed hard, feeling suddenly flush in the face. She took a final drag off her cigarette and stood up, taking the guitar off from around her shoulders, placing it against the wall, and stubbing out her smoke in the ash tray on the table. She stood with her back to Joan for a minute, trying to keep some composure. She felt overly exposed, and although she trusted Joan, she didn't like to make herself vulnerable.

"Well, we should probably get back on set," Joan said, startling Kristen slightly.

Kristen turned around, running her hand through her hair. "Yeah, probably."

Joan stood up and took a step toward Kristen, placing her hands on her shoulders. "Good talk," she said, smiling.

Kristen nodded. "Totally, yeah."

Joan walked toward the door, her shoulder arched in their usual manner and Kristen watched as she disappeared. She let out a deep breath, feeling slightly shaky. It could have been from the nicotine, but she knew that it was more likely from the fact that she had admitted something to Joan that she'd never said to anyone else before. She felt slightly embarrassed that she had been titillated by Joan's recounting of her intimacy with Cherie and it made her even more confused about her feelings for Dakota. Were they real? Or were they a projection of something else? Was it because Dakota was just there, wanting her, looking so innocent and pretty? Or was it because she actually did feel something toward her?

Kristen shook her head, pulling at the collar of her shirt and grabbed the guitar, grunting slightly from its weight. She waltzed out of the trailer, following behind Joan back onto the set, where she could already see the familiar golden glow of Dakota's hair, and hear her soft laughter from a distance. Her throat tightened as she walked closer, trying not to stare at her for too long, smiling as she caught her eye and admired the look that spread across her face now.

The last thing Kristen wanted to do was ruin this between her and Dakota, but when she really thought about it, she didn't even know what _this_ was. She glanced over at Joan who winked at her and she nodded slightly. She walked up to Dakota, put the guitar down against the wall and wrapped her arms around her neck, pulling her into a tight embrace. She didn't know why, but she just wanted to feel close to someone, anyone, and Dakota was the perfect fit.


	16. Chapter 16  Pretty Vacant

Tonight was a long shoot – they were behind schedule and had to push shooting into over time. It was already 10:30pm, and they were taking a break before heading back on set. Dakota had already finished her hours for the day, being a minor there were certain rules about this kind of thing, and so they were shooting some scenes without her.

Kristen sat in her trailer, chewing gum, her headphones in as she blasted the Sex Pistols album she had downloaded. She was trying to get in the punk mood, even though she didn't really like the music all that much. Sure, she tapped her foot along to the beat, and admired the simple, three chord chorus but she was more of an acoustic girl. She closed her eyes, focussing on Johnny Rotten's sickeningly raw vocals as they pounded in her ears and a growl rumbled in her throat. These past few weeks they had really thrown themselves into the rock and roll mindset, trying to look and feel the part as best as possible. She could picture these British punks thrashing around on stage, beer bottles crunching under their feet as hundreds of Mohawk-ed teenagers threw themselves at each other, fists flying, the smell of spilled beer and blood in the air…

She was startled back to reality by Joan, who was peering over her, shaking her leg to get her attention. Kristen pulled her headphones out.

"Jesus, you have those up really loud!" Joan said, smiling.

"Sorry," Kristen mumbled, her ears buzzing slightly, as she paused her iPod.

"Sex Pistols, huh?" Joan asked.

Kristen nodded.

Joan sat next to her and sighed. "Man, I'm fuckin' beat," she said.

"Me too," Kristen said, stretching. "I need a coffee or something. I'm, like, totally dead."

"Why aren't you hanging out with the other girls?" Joan asked softly.

Kristen shrugged. "Just kind of felt like being alone, I guess."

"Is everything okay?" Joan said, leaning forward slightly.

"Yep," Kristen replied.

Joan looked at Kristen for a moment, studying her face. "I don't believe you."

Kristen looked away, twirling her ring between her fingers, a nervous habit she had.

"I'm just…thinking. That's all."

"About what?"

Kristen sighed. "Nothing. It's nothing."

Joan put her hand on Kristen's knee. "Don't lie to me," she said, a weak smile spreading on her lips.

Kristen looked at Joan, feeling her genuine concern. "Something happened between me and Dakota," she said slowly.

Joan cleared her throat. "Something like what?"

"We kissed," Kristen replied quickly.

"When?" Joan asked, slightly surprised.

"Recently."

Joan was quiet for a moment. "What else?"

"Nothing else. We just kissed and I told her that we shouldn't be doing this and that we're just friends. She's…fuck, man. She's still in high school. I'm totally sick."

Joan laughed. "How old is she? 16?"

Kristen winced. "Not even. She's 15."

"And you're…"

"Eighteen."

Joan made a face. "Uh oh," she said.

"But she's just so fucking…together, you know? She's so mature. She's more mature than I am. When we're hanging out, and talking I totally forget how old she is because she's just so fucking smart and articulate and half the time I am sitting there feeling like a dumbass because she's just got it, you know? She just…ughhh." Kristen rolled her eyes, covering her face in her hands.

Joan smiled. "It's okay, Kristen. It's okay to like her."

"No, it's not! It's not okay! I'm, like, a total freak!"

Kristen cell phone buzzed on the table beside them. She glanced over at it, seeing Dakota's name.

"Shit," she mumbled, picking it up. It was a text message.

"_Hey, what's up? You still on set?"_

"Dakota?" Joan asked.

Kristen nodded, thinking about responding, but just put it back down.

"What am I supposed to do, Joan? I can't just…ignore it. Because I know how she feels and it's complicated. So fucking complicated."

Joan sighed. "You need to talk to her and tell her how you feel."

"I did. And I didn't do a very good job because I…" she paused. "Well, I made her cry."

Joan raised her eyebrows. "What did you say to her?"

"It wasn't so much what I said, I don't think, but how I said it. It was kind of abrupt and just…I don't know. I guess she felt rejected or something. Fuck."

They both sat there for a moment silently.

"You know, when Cherie and I were younger it was kind of weird at first when we, well, you know…" she paused. "But then we realized that it was just something that happened and we had to focus on the band. I mean, that's why we were there. So, maybe you two just need to kind of just…get over it."

Kristen laughed. "Get over it? Joan, c'mon. We can't just get over it."

"You're going to have to."

Kristen clenched her jaw, sighing. "I know. But, that's easier said than done."

"Look, I'm going to be honest with you about something, and it's only because I think it's going to help you with this…"

Kristen looked over at Joan curiously.

"Cherie and I have been…well…there has been something going on between us as well. And, if you think that what's happening between you and Dakota is complicated, you don't know the have of it, kid. But what we do know is how important this project is – to us, to you guys…to everyone. And we're not going to let whatever the hell is going on between us to get in the way of our working relationship. We never have, and I ain't gonna start now. You and Dakota are both professionals, and from what I understand, you've dated co-stars before. So, you two need to figure out –"

Kristen interrupted her. "We're not dating."

"Well, whatever is going on between you, you need to figure it out and not let it get awkward on set because we really, _really_ need you two to be natural with each other. If there is tension it will come across on screen. And, I'm not trying to sound like a bitch or like I don't care, because I do, honestly I do, but this is a really important project and I am trusting both of you to know what's right here."

Kristen nodded, biting her lip slightly, listening intently to Joan.

"Joan, I…I don't want you to think I can't handle this. I can totally handle this," she said, stuttering slightly.

"I know you can. I'm not doubting you. You're the only one for the job, and that's why I just need you to make sure that you figure it all out with her."

Kristen sighed. "God, I just wish this was easier."

They sat there for a moment quietly.

"I-I…I'm gonna fix this, okay Joan? I swear, I will figure it out. It's not gonna be a problem. This movie means a lot to me because it means a lot to you and I promise I won't let anything, really, _nothing_, get in the way of this."

Joan smiled at Kristen's sincerity. "I know you won't."

Kristen made a familiar face that was a mix of anguish and uncertainty. But she glared at Joan, solidifying the promise with her eyes.

She looked down at her hands then, before pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. She exhaled quickly. "So," she said, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "You and Cherie, huh? I should have guessed."

Joan laughed slightly. "Well, I don't know. But, she walks in the room and I get this funny feeling in the pit of my stomach you know? I can't really explain it, it doesn't make sense, but all I know is it is so fucking good to see her."

"Isn't she, like, married and shit?" Kristen asked.

"Divorced," Joan replied quickly.

Kristen chuckled. "Right. But, she has a kid doesn't she?"

"Yes. A son."

"Cool," Kristen replied, exhaling slowly.

"Listen, this isn't exactly public knowledge," Joan said slowly. "So, if we could keep it between us I would really appreciate it."

Kristen smiled, sliding her fingers across her lips like a zipper.

"Alright. See you back on set?" Joan said, getting up.

"Yeah. I'll just be a minute."

Joan walked out and Kristen picked up her phone, dialling Dakota's number. Her heart raced with every ring.

"Hi," Dakota said sweetly, and Kristen could hear the smile on her face.

"Hey, how's it goin?" Kristen asked smoothly, still smoking.

"Alright. Are you still on set?"

"Yup,"

"Wow. That sucks. How long are you going to be there?"

"I dunno. Awhile I think."

"Damn. I thought maybe we could be able to hang out, but I guess not…"

Kristen cleared her throat. "Listen, Dakota, I think we need to talk."

Dakota swallowed hard. "Um, okay. About what?"

"About what happened the other day. I just…I would be lying to you if I told you I didn't feel something between us. I mean, you're phenomenal. But, it's so complicated, you know? We can't risk this getting in the way of the movie…"

"It won't," Dakota replied. "Whatever happens, it will not get in the way of this."

"Good. I just…this is…I'm trying to…" Kristen stuttered, trying to find the right words. Dakota waited patiently on the other end.

Kristen took a deep breath, stubbing out her cigarette. "I feel so normal around you. I love being around you and hanging out. You are so fucking cool, you know that? You just…shit, Dakota. I have so much fucking respect for you…I…I adore you," she laughed awkwardly to herself. "But, I can't…_we _can't take this to another level. I might want to, and you might want to, but I just think that would be…ill advised."

"Ill advised?" Dakota said, chucking slightly.

"Yes," Kristen said. "It's just that as stupid as it is, the whole age thing is kind of a big deal. No, you don't act like a 15 year old or look like 15 year old…hell, I am more like a 15 year old than you are sometimes! But, at the end of the day, I'm 18 and you're 15 and that's just the way it goes." Kristen felt her heart banging against her chest, as she tried to hear some kind of response from the other end.

"Okay," Dakota finally said. "I understand."

"Yeah?" Kristen asked.

"Yes. I understand and from now on, it's strictly professional. No funny business. We're just friends."

Kristen took a deep breath. "Right. Just friends."

"But, do me a favour?" Dakota asked.

"Sure,"

"Stop flirting with me."

Kristen laughed. "Uh, okay?"

"I'm being serious!" Dakota replied. "If you want us to be just friends then we need to act like just friends. So, you can't put her hand around my waist, or kiss my cheek, or make those eyes at me from across the table…"

Kristen was blushing, happy that Dakota couldn't see the guilty look on her face. "Alright. I'll stop flirting with you…" she cleared her throat.

"And I'll stop flirting with you," Dakota replied. "I won't grab your hand, or wear your tshirts, or stand so close to you that you can't help but touch me…"

Kristen smiled. So, Dakota knew what she was doing all along…

"Deal," she said. "But, I gotta go back to set. I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

"Yep. We're shooting the Roller Rink scene," Dakota reminded her, a smile playing on her lips.

Kristen's heart sank. Shit. That was the scene they had to kiss in. "R-right. Yeah. Totally. Can't wait to see you eat shit on roller skates," she laughed, trying to make it sound like she didn't care.

"Me?" Dakota replied. "You are the clumsy one."

"Yeah, well we'll see about that tomorrow, kid," Kristen replied. "Have a good night, Dakota."

"You too, Kristen."

They hung up, and Kristen sat there smiling to herself. She felt relieved that they had settled this, though anxiety was beginning to trickle through her at the though of them having to kiss in screen tomorrow. Sure, she'd had plenty of on-screen kisses before, but none quiet like this. And what timing! She shook her head, grabbing her cigarettes off the table beside her and walked out across the lot and into the studio. Scout was standing outside the door, smoking.

"Hey stranger," she said, smiling.

"Hey," Kristen replied, deciding to have another smoke with her before they went back in.

"Where you been hiding?" Scout asked.

"In my trailer. Trying to rouse the punk spirit within me listening to the Sex Pistols."

Scout laughed. "And how's that working out for you?"

Kristen shrugged. "Alright, I guess."

Scout took a final drag off her cigarette and dropped it on the ground, stomping on it with her boot. "You should come hang out with us instead," she said grinning. "We don't bite…hard."

Kristen smiled. "Well, maybe I will." She took another drag off of her own cigarette and dropped it as well, stepping on it with the toe of her sneaker.

Scout leaned forward slightly, closing the space between them. "Hey, you look really good in those leather pants you know," she smiled coyly.

Kristen smirked. "Thanks."

"Maybe if we get out of here at a decent time, we can grab a drink or something?" Scout asked softly. "After all, I totally bailed on you the other night."

Kristen looked at Scout, scanning her face. "Yeah, sure."

Scout smiled. "Bitchin'" she said, turning to open the door.

Kristen followed her inside, feeling slightly intrigued by Scout's assertiveness, yet weirdly guilty. _Whatever_, she thought to herself. _It's just a drink._

Scout pushed Kristen against the wall, both of their heads swimming in alcohol. One drink had turned into several, and somehow they had gone from hanging out to full-fledged making-out. They had somehow made it back to Scout's apartment, and they were stumbling around the room, laughing and grabbing at each other. Kristen hadn't been this drunk in awhile, and she figured it was the shots they had ordered. They toppled over the couch, their bodies crashing against each other.

"Shit, shit!" Kristen said, laughing drunkenly. She felt her cell phone crunch underneath her weight. This is why she shouldn't keep shit in her back pockets. She pulled it out and examined it – it looked alright. She tossed it on the coffee table and Scout tossed her head back, whipping her long hair out of her face.

"You're fuckin' gorgeous," Scout said, burying her face in Kristen's neck.

"Mhmm," Kristen mumbled, feeling numb and yet very sensitive all at the same time. Scout's hands ran up her body.

"I bet Lita and Joan never did this," she said, laughing.

Kristen laughed, squirming underneath her. Their lips crashed together, and they pressed against each other libidinously.

_Oh God, Oh God, Oh God_, Kristen thought to herself, trying to decide if she liked this or if she was making a huge mistake.

"W-wait. H-hang on," she slurred, pushing against Scout's arms.

"What?" Scout asked, peering down at her.

"I think, that uh, I think we're a little drunk and maybe we should, uh, not…"

Scout laughed. "C'mon. We're just havin' fun. No big deal, right?"

Kristen made a face. "Tomorrow might be…awkward."

"It won't be awkward," Scout argued.

"I'm drunk," Kristen said again. "I'm really awkward when I'm sober."

Scout laughed. "Yeah, I know. But I'm not. So don't worry about it," she leaned in and kissed Kristen again.

Kristen wanted to let go but something told her, even in her drunken state, that maybe this was indeed a bad idea. She pulled away.

"Scout, hang on." She wiggled underneath her. Scout pushed herself away and they both sat up.

"I'm…shit. I'm sorry. I want to, but I just…I think that maybe…" Kristen began, trying to string a sentence together.

"It's okay. No, you're right. It could be weird."

They sat there quietly for a moment. Kristen felt slightly dizzy. She wished she was at home in bed.

"I should go…" she said, getting up.

"You can crash here if you want," Scout offered. "I have a spare room."

Kristen shrugged. "It's cool. I…I gotta go home. But, yeah, thanks."

She stood up and they awkwardly walked to the front door.

"I'm really sorry," Kristen said softly.

"Don't be. It's cool, alright? No big deal," Scout replied, smiling slightly.

Kristen grabbed a cab, sitting in the back still feeling very drunk. She whipped out her cell phone, and felt an overwhelming desire to text Dakota. Mistake number one.

"_hgey you. Whatsop_?" she typed, drunkenly misspelling the message.

"_Nothing. Can't sleep. How was the rest of the night?"_

"_Fgood. Went out witgh Scouttt after."_

"_I can tell. Haha! Drunk?"_

"_No. I want to come over."_ Kristen typed with carefully, fighting the same voice that told her to stop.

"_You can't. My parents are home. It's 2am!"_

"_I'll pick you up," _Kristen didn't know why she was doing this to herself.

"_You're drunk. I'll see you on set tomorrow. Good night."_

Kristen slouched in the backseat, wishing she wasn't so dizzy. She stumbled out of the cab, tossing him way too much money. She walked into her house, practically crawling up the stairs and collapsing in her bed, her head spinning, her stomach churning slightly from all the damn vodka she had. She closed her eyes, wishing more than anything that she wasn't alone.


	17. Chapter 17 This little game

Joan pulled up in Cherie's driveway feeling kind of nervous. She hadn't been to her house in years and it felt strange to be back here. She walked up to the door, sliding her sunglasses off her face, and rang the doorbell.

Cherie answered it quickly, smiling.

"Hi," she said.

Joan smiled back, the special smile that Cherie noticed instantly. "Hey," she replied coolly.

Cherie ushered her in and they sat down in the kitchen.

"You hungry or anything?" Cherie asked.

Joan shook her head. "Nah, I'm okay actually."

They looked at each other, smiling. Cherie felt like the giggly 15 year old she used to be, and Joan felt strange sitting here all these years later…

"It's been awhile since I've been here," Joan remarked, looking around. "Looks different."

"Yeah, some renovations since you were last here I'm sure. When was that, anyways?"

"You know, I can't even remember."

They both thought about it, then shrugged, unable to recall the occasion. Joan leaned back in her chair in that casual way she always did and Cherie couldn't help but run her eyes down Joan's body. She was so muscular, yet petite. There was something feminine about her toughness – like the black eyeliner and perfectly messy hair was softer than it would be on anyone else. She had an instant flashback to lying next to Joan, discovering her for the first time, lost in the haziness of lust. A smile broke across her face and she felt herself blush.

"What?" Joan ask, her raspy voice so familiar.

"Just thinking about all those times…We were so young."

Joan chuckled. "Yeah. We were young. Stupid, too. But, we had fun…didn't we?"

Cherie nodded. "Yes. We had fun."

Joan licked her lips and leaned forward. "Listen, Cherie. I can't sit here and pretend I'm not thinkin' about the one thing I shouldn't be thinkin' about," she hinted.

Cherie scanned Joan's face, waiting for more. "Don't be coy, Joan."

Joan laughed. "Shit. I don't know what it is but, hearing your voice again, having you right in front me…I just…" she trailed off.

"I still find you incredibly sexy," Cherie offered.

Joan swallowed, feeling a tingling in the pit of her stomach. "Damn it, Cherie," she said, getting out of her seat quickly, putting her hands on either side of Cherie's face, kissing her.

Joan smiled against her mouth, pulling away to laugh.

"What?" Cherie asked.

"God, you still wear cherry lip gloss?" Joan teased, licking her lips.

Cherie smiled bashfully. "Sometimes, yeah."

"That's fantastic," Joan said, pressing against her lips again. She was nostalgic for the flavour now, feeling like she was warping back in time.

Cherie liked the way Joan felt against her now, there was something different about it. Joan wasn't that girl with the shaggy hair and the Maryland drawl anymore. No, she was all grown up too, and knew exactly what she wanted. Cherie pulled away slightly, her hands resting on Joan's arms.

"Joanie," she whispered.

"Don't. Please," Joan begged, knowing what was coming next.

"If I don't stop this, it will go too far," Cherie said.

"We're already been that far. C'mon, I know you feel this. I know it. You look at me in that way I just _know_ things, Cherie."

Joan pulled away, sitting back down next to her. She squeezed her hands together, looking at them.

"Joanie," Cherie said again. It was the only thing she knew to say.

"Don't you remember?" Joan asked. "Don't you remember how it feels? When I would crawl in bed next to you when you were a mess, and I would just put my arms around you and tell you everything would be okay? I wasn't just saying that to you, Cherie. I was trying to convince myself that it would be okay. And it worked for a little while, didn't it? Can't we just…make it work again?" Joan looked up at her, her warm brown eyes nearly melting Cherie's heart.

Cherie sighed. "It's not so simple," she said. "You know that."

Joan shook her head. "It _is_ that simple, Cherie. What's stopping you?"

Cherie swallowed hard. "C'mon. Don't do this," she said.

"I can't keep putting myself out there," Joan argued. "I have to know why this can't happen."

"Because it still hurts, Joan. I look at you and a thousand and one feelings come flooding back to me every time. I love being around you, I do. I always have. But, there's just a lot of shit. You can't possibly imagine."

"And you think I don't feel the same?" Joan asked. "You think that in my head it's all rainbows and butterflies? I still cringe over the way it felt that day you told me you were leaving, Cherie. I mean, you totally destroyed a piece of me that day. I can still see the look on your face, hear the words coming out of your mouth…it's been 30 years but it's like it was yesterday."

Cherie looked down at her hands. She felt her face get hot, and her eyes sting. She shut them tight to fight the feeling. "I couldn't even hear your voice for decades. I hadn't listened to Cherry Bomb until a few years ago. I couldn't. And every time I heard you on the radio it was like someone was ripping open an old wound. And then when Sandy…" she trailed off for a moment. "Well, fuck. That was awful. That was just so heartbreaking. And I didn't even get to see you that day and I just…you were the only one who understood."

Joan felt a tingle in the back of her throat, the same one she always got when she thought of Sandy. "I can't talk about that. It's still eating me up."

Cherie nodded. "Me too."

They were quiet for a little while then. It wasn't awkward, or uncomfortable; just the kind of silence that lingers because there's nothing more to say.

"I'm sorry, Joan," Cherie said finally. "I am really, honestly sorry."

Joan nodded. "I know, Cherie. I know you are."

Cherie leaned over, putting her hand over Joan's. They looked at each other for a moment. They said everything else with just that one look and it felt like some of the tension had finally been lifted.

"I really do love you, Joanie," Cherie said softly.

Joan smiled slightly. "I love you, too."

They were quiet again then, but Cherie leaned in and kissed Joan very softly. They both understood, and realized that the only important thing was that they would never, ever stop.

* * *

Dakota walked toward Kristen as she was standing outside, smoking. She really wished Kristen would kick the dirty habit already, but she couldn't help but notice how strangely cool she looked while she did it.

"Hi," Dakota said softly.

Kristen smiled. "Hey," she took a final drag and dropped her cigarette on the asphalt of the lot, kicking it away with her shoe. "I'm, uh, really sorry about last night," she said. "Sorry if I woke you up or something."

Dakota laughed softly. "You didn't. And it's okay. Did you have fun?"

Kristen thought about that for a second before responding. "Yeah. Yeah it was…nice."

"You ready for the big scene?" Dakota asked sarcastically.

"Absolutely," Kristen replied, smiling and squinting slightly in the sun. "I'm kind of looking forward to the roller-skating," she added.

"Yeah, me too. I'm excited to see you go flying across the place."

Kristen laughed. "I probably should have got some insurance, huh?"

Dakota nodded. "Definitely."

They walked inside giggling, Kristen glancing sideways at her as they strode along side each other. _She is so innocently beautiful_, she thought to herself.

They didn't have enough time to goof around the rink on roller skates, though that didn't stop Kristen from trying to push Dakota over…and succeeding. She doubled over laughing as Dakota scowled at her from the ground.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry!" Kristen said between laughs. She held her hand out to help her up, but Dakota swatted it away.

"I hate you," Dakota mumbled, struggling to get back on her feet in the skates.

"Aw, baby, don't say that!" Kristen said mockingly, grabbing her arm and helping her up finally.

Dakota cut her eyes at Kristen, annoyed at her behaviour.

"I'm sorry, really," Kristen said again. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Dakota shook her head. "You didn't. But you better keep an eye out, because I am going to get you back." She stuck her tongue out and strode away, sitting down on the bench, waiting for the next part of the scene where all she had to do was lie down.

The camera was rolling, and everyone was eerily quiet. Kristen asked if the music could be playing while they shot the scene because she had a whole timing element planned to it, and Floria agreed, knowing she could just edit it out in post-production. The growling echo of the guitar filled the room. Kristen put her cigarette to her mouth, watching Dakota lying next to her. She leaned over slowly, the lighting changing to a red backlight, causing her eyes to blur for a moment. She inhaled, putting her lips just in front of Dakota's, forcing herself to keep them from actually touching. She exhaled into Dakota's small mouth, who followed her upwards slightly. Kristen felt a shiver go down her spine as she watched Dakota exhale. She paused for a moment, watching her face, seeing this familiar look in her eyes and she bent down, pressing her lips against Dakota's, feeling the libidinous rumble of Iggy Pop's voice as the music played in sync with the scene. Kristen knew the rules here, it had to be a short, innocent kiss; but in the moment, she wanted nothing more than to elevate this scene into something that was probably a little more realistic. Her tongue ever so slightly touched against Dakota's when they heard Floria yell cut, and she pulled away slightly, smiling, her face still just inches in front of Dakota's for a moment, before she sat back, blinking as the lights flicked back to their original, white glow. Dakota licked her lips, lying there still, her heart racing in her chest. She knew everyone had been watching this, but it honestly felt like it had just been the two of them. She propped herself up on her elbows and Kristen flicked her eyebrows at her, before looking away and over at Floria and Joan, who was trying to hide a smile.

"Perfect!" Floria yelled excitedly. "Great call with the music, Kristen. Really helped form the scene. I loved it! I think we got it in one take. What do you think, Joan?"

Joan nodded. "Yeah, man. That was…hot!"

Kristen and Dakota giggled. "You sure it's okay? Can I, uh, see playback?" Kristen asked, getting up on her feet. She looked down at Dakota, offering her hand and helped her up. They stood beside Floria, watching the small screen as it replayed the last few minutes. Kristen stood there, her brow furrowed, arms across her chest, in a similar stance to Joan. Cherie stood next to her, her eyes shifting from the screen to Kristen's face, still feeling anxious. It looked fantastic, but she almost wished they had to reshoot…

"What do you think, girls?" Joan asked.

Kristen nodded. "Yeah. It's great."

Dakota agreed softly.

"Perfect. Well, we have to be back at the studio for three, so I guess I will see you all there?" Floria asked.

They all nodded in unison and began splitting up.

Kristen took a deep breath. She glanced over at Scout who was sitting with Stella and Alia off to the side. She smiled slightly and Scout gave her a thumbs up, but she felt completely awkward about kissing Dakota in front of her. _It's just a scene_, she told herself. _No one suspected a thing_.

Kristen pulled Dakota aside, whisking her into her car.

"What's going on?" Dakota asked, laughing slightly.

"I can't…this is…shit. I can't do this," Kristen said, stuttering, running her hand through her hair.

"Do what?" Dakota said.

"That was just…it felt like…ugh!" Kristen said, before launching forward and pressing her lips against Dakota's.

Dakota pulled away. "What are you doing?" she said, a certain shrillness in her voice.

"I can't just be your friend," Kristen said. "I know I went on this whole thing with you about it but that…in there…c'mon."

Dakota swallowed hard. "It was just a scene," she said softly.

Kristen's face fell. "What?" she asked, almost positive she had heard her incorrectly.

"In there. That was just a scene. It was just a kiss, Kristen. Same as you have done a million times before with all those other people."

Kristen glared at Dakota, scanning her face for some sort of sign of denial. But there was none. Damn, she was good.

"Y-you didn't _feel_ that?" Kristen asked.

Dakota sighed. "No," she said softly, looking at her hands. Lie.

"I don't believe you," Kristen said. "You're lying!"

"Kristen," Dakota said, looking at her quickly before looking away again. "Stop. We already agreed on this."

"You can't…you can't be serious!" Kristen said, nearly yelling now.

"I am serious," Dakota answered, her face blank. "You know that this is a bad idea. You told me yourself. And I agree with you. It was just a scene, and now it's over. We can't play this little game anymore."

Kristen sat there, dumbstruck. "Well, fuck," she said, turning in her chair and starting the engine. "I guess that's that then."

"I guess so," Dakota replied, looking longingly out the window as they pulled out of the lot and headed back to the studio.


	18. Chapter 18  Wrap Party

**2 months later – The Wrap Party**

Kristen burst out laughing at something Stella had said, swinging her arm around her and pulling her into a hug.

"Shit, you're hilarious!" she said, taking another swig of her beer. She glanced around the room for the 5th time in the past few minutes, her eyes darting across the growing sea of people, looking for Dakota. So far, no sign of her.

She caught Joan's eye from around the room and smiled. Joan was beaming, so happy that they had wrapped the film and it was on its way to being polished up, ready for an audience. Everyone was buzzing with excitement.

Scout came up from behind and put her arm around her waist.

"Hey you," she said in her ear.

Kristen smiled. "Hi," she said, her eyes running up and down Scout's body, catching on her partially exposed midriff.

"You look hot," Scout said, grinning coyly.

"Thanks, uh, so do you." She took another sip of her beer.

"You wanna get some fresh air?" Scout hinted, nodding toward the back door. Kristen nodded and followed Scout through the crowd, out onto the surprisingly deserted patio.

Kristen pulled out two cigarettes from her pack, handing one to Scout. She lit her own, then passed the lighter over. They stood there for a moment, inhaling and exhaling slowly.

"I can't believe we're done," Scout said.

"Mmm, I know. It doesn't feel like it. Not really, anyways. I guess we still have promo and stuff…" Kristen replied.

"Yeah. I'm gonna miss this. I had the best fucking time!" Scout laughed.

"Yeah, me too."

They locked eyes for a minute.

"I think this is going to be really great," Scout said quietly. "I think people are really gonna like this."

Kristen nodded. "I hope so. I really fucking hope so."

Scout stepped toward Kristen. "I, uh, I have to ask you something though," she said, taking a long drag on her cigarette.

"Shoot," Kristen replied.

"Did something, uh, happen between you and Dakota?"

Kristen tried to keep her composure. "No," she said nonchalantly. "Why?"

"I saw you two."

Kristen laughed. "_What_?" she asked.

"I didn't want to say anything but, I just…I wanted to know because…well, because I like you. A lot. But, I just wasn't sure if that was even an option, and you and I hooked up that time and I just thought maybe now that we aren't working together…but I saw you with Dakota and I just-"

Kristen cut her off. "Woah. Woah! Hang on a fuckin' second," she said. "First of all, that was a long time ago, Scout. And we were really, _really_ hammered. I don't even…fuck. Yeah. Anyways. And second of all, what the hell do you _mean_ you saw me and Dakota? Doing what?" she was trying to sound confused, but it started to come across as defensive.

Scout stared at Kristen for a moment. "Kristen, I _saw_ you."

Kristen's hands felt shaky all of a sudden. "Doing what?" she asked again.

"_Kissing_," Scout whispered.

"When?"

"In your car."

Kristen swallowed hard, dropping her cigarette on the ground. "Oh," she said quietly. Damn.

"Scout, that was, like, ages ago. I don't even know…look, I'm not with Dakota, if that's what you're asking. She's way too young anyways, and it's not even like that. What you saw was just…something that happened but it was nothing," that last word caught in her throat and she paused for a moment to clear it.

"Okay, okay! I get it. Sorry, I just…wasn't sure. I just wanted to know…" she took a step toward her. Kristen surveyed the space between them now and wasn't sure how to react.

"Scout," Kristen said softly.

She took another step and they were only inches apart. Kristen knew she was daring her to do something but she just stood there, frozen.

"There you are!" they heard a voice say and they both shot their heads toward the doorway, Kristen instinctively taking a step back as she saw it was Dakota. A smile instantly spread across her face and she looked her up and down. She looked absolutely stunning.

"Hey you," Kristen said, walking towards her and throwing her arms around her neck. "You looked great," she said.

Dakota smiled. "Thanks, you too. Hey, Scout," she said, waving at her.

Scout smiled weakly in response. She dropped her smoke on the ground, stomped it out with her heel and breezed past them back inside.

"Is everything okay out here?" Dakota asked, noticing the tension.

Kristen shrugged casually. "Yep. Everything's fine."

They locked eyes for a moment and Dakota's heart fluttered slightly. Sometimes Kristen's sharp green eyes caught her totally off guard. They were stunning, especially tonight. Dakota gently curled her hand around Kristen's waist.

"Sorry I'm late," she said softly. "There was a minor crisis with the dress."

"What happened?" Kristen asked.

"Oh, they took it to the wrong place. In the valley."

Kristen laughed. "Oh my god! Why the fuck would they take it to the valley?"

"They thought I lived there."

"Idiots!"

Dakota laughed. "Yes. But. I'm here now, and in the dress. So, it all worked out."

"It's stunning," Kristen said, leaning into her. "You look _so_ good," she whispered in her ear.

Dakota giggled. "You're flirting," she warned.

Kristen shrugged. "I can't help it."

After their discussion in the car weeks earlier, they had tried their best to keep things casual between them. It was torture, but neither let on. The more they tried to fight it, the worse it seemed to get. Kristen threw herself into other things, mastering the guitar riffs, reading scripts, spending time with her family since she was filming in California. But the more she tried not to think about it, the more it seemed to occupy her thoughts.

For Dakota it was the same way. She knew the logic behind the whole thing made sense – Kristen was too old for her and it could affect their working relationship. But every time Kristen made her laugh, or flicked her eyebrows at her, or even said her name she practically tingled with excitement. She felt the way that Cherie did with Joan – the feeling that every time they looked at each other it's like there was a secret between them, and that funny feeling would rise in her stomach that made her blush. And now that the movie had wrapped, things had gotten a little less tense between them, and they had begun slipping up on all their rules. With a few beers in her, Kristen began to push the envelope more than usual tonight.

"We should go back in," Dakota said, retreating her hand from Kristen's waist.

"Yeah, we should," Kristen mumbled. She just wanted to stay out here alone with her.

They walked in together, a playful smile on both their faces. Kristen glanced over at Scout, who scowled slightly at the sight of them together. A feeling of guilt washed over her and she decided to nip this in the bud.

"Hey, I'll be right back, okay?" she said to Dakota, who nodded.

Kristen beelined to Scout. "Can I talk to you for a sec?" she asked.

They walked over to a quieter part of the giant room and sat down on the couch.

"Look, Scout. I think you're really awesome, I do. I mean, you're gorgeous, and funny, and so talented. But I don't think that we should, you know, take this beyond friendship."

Scout smiled. "Kristen, I don't want to marry you. I just want to fuck you."

Kristen's eyes widened, surprised at the bluntness of her statement. "Oh," she said meekly. She was at a loss for words.

"It's cool. Don't worry about it. But, why don't you think about that for a little bit and let me know, yeah?" Scout said, getting up. She locked eyes with Kristen and winked, before waltzing back into the crowd. Kristen watched her walk away and she sat there for a minute, dumbstruck and slightly intrigued.

"Come home with me," Kristen whispered into Dakota's ear a few hours later, feeling a little more drunk than she probably should be.

Dakota smiled bashfully. "Why?" she asked.

Kristen put her arm around Dakota's tiny waist. "Why do you think, silly?"

Dakota cleared her throat nervously. "I can't. You know I can't."

"Sure you can. Just come home with me."

"My parents think I'm coming home tonight."

"Just call them and tell them you're staying at my place. Problem solved." Kristen looked around the room inconspicuously, seeing Scout talking animatedly with some others. She tightened her grip around Dakota's waist.

Dakota looked sideways at her. "I can't," she said softly.

"Ooh, but you _can_. Come on."

"No," Dakota said, pulling away slightly. "Why are you being like this?"

Kristen felt her face get hot. She let go of Dakota's waist. "Sorry. I just…" she felt embarrassed.

"You're drunk," Dakota said.

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are. That's why you're being so touchy-feely."

Kristen chuckled. "C'mon. I'm always like that."

"We're not allowed, remember?" Dakota said.

Kristen scanned her face quickly, her eyes pausing slightly on her lips. "Okay. You're right. Sorry. I'll stop," she rolled her shoulders.

Dakota took a deep breath. "It's not that I don't want to," she said, leaning into Kristen slightly. "I just can't, okay?"

Kristen nodded. The tension between them was electric, and as Dakota's soft skin grazed against her own, she was practically screaming at herself to ignore the sensation.

"It's getting late," Dakota said then, scanning the room for Joan and Cherie. "I should probably get going."

"I can come with you," Kristen offered. "Just for the ride."

Dakota smiled. "It's okay. Stay for a bit. I'm gonna go say bye to people but, call me tomorrow okay?" She leaned in and kissed Kristen on the cheek.

"That was definitely against the rules," Kristen said coyly.

Dakota shrugged. "Sue me."

She waltzed away, and Kristen's eyes watched her walk. She felt guilty for her behaviour, but didn't want to fight this feeling anymore. God damn it, why couldn't she be even just another year older? She felt perverted, then, thinking that. What if it was an 18 year old guy was thinking that about her? She shuttered. _But it's not_, she thought. _It's just _me.

Kristen stayed for a few more drinks with the other girls. The place was nearly empty now, and they sat around reminiscing, laughing at themselves.

"Do you remember that time you were running along the sidewalk and you totally bailed?" Stella asked Kristen, laughing.

Kristen shook her head in embarrassment. "Ah, fuck. Yeah. But, I was head to toe in leather so, like, that was my only saving grace. But my hands were all bloody and Joan and Floria were like 'you alright?' and I just kinda nodded slightly, gritting my teeth and the verge of tears because I was so fuckin' embarrassed that I totally ate shit, and they were like, 'okay! Keep rolling!' Ugh. That was awful." She took another swig of her beer.

Joan and Cherie waltzed over, both grinning.

"You're still here!" Cherie said, looking at them.

They all nodded.

"Of course, we don't want to miss anything," Stella said, laughing slightly.

"Well, I think everyone's just about done around here," Joan said looking around the empty room. It looked so different without all those people in it.

Kristen finished off the rest of her drink and put the glass on the table. "Do you need help with anything or…" she said, standing up. She wobbled slightly. She was more drunk than she thought.

Joan laughed. "No, no. You girls go home. It's late anyways."

"Well, this was awesome," Kristen said, hugging Cherie.

"Yes, it was. I guess we'll see each other soon?" Cherie asked.

Kristen nodded. They all exchanged hugs. Kristen smiled when Joan pulled her tightly against her.

"Call me soon, huh kid?" she said in Kristen's ear.

She pulled back and looked at her. "Joanie, I'll call you tomorrow. I had a lot of fun." She smiled wide, feeling slightly melancholic that this whole adventure was almost over.

They looked at each other for a moment, before letting go. Joan put her arm around Cherie's waist and they watched as the girls turned to leave. They would miss seeing them everyday. It felt like the end of an era.

Kristen, Scout and Stella piled into an SUV that was waiting outside for them. They dropped Stella off first, and then headed back on the freeway in the direction of Scout's place.

"Hey," Scout said, shifting closer to Kristen. "You think about what I said earlier?" she put her hand on her leg.

Kristen looked over at her, her eyes feeling glassy and her head swimming. "Mmhm," she mumbled.

"And what do you think?"

Kristen smiled and leaned back, speaking to the driver. "Hey, we're just makin' one stop, buddy. We'll both get off at her place." He nodded in response.

"We sure will," Scout said coyly, running her hands up Kristen's thigh. "I guarantee it."


	19. Chapter 19 Are you in or are you out?

Kristen woke up, her head throbbing. She blinked awake, feeling blinded by the morning sun. She looked around the unfamiliar room, her sluggish mind filling in the missing pieces. Her eyes widened as she came to the realization that she was not alone. She peeked over at Scout who was still sound asleep.  
_Oh, shit. Ohshitshitshit_! She thought. She lifted up the covers and noticed they were both dressed - herself in boxers and a tshirt she didn't recognize, and Scout in the same.  
Maybe nothing happened, she thought. Maybe. Why couldn't she remember?  
She crawled slowly out of bed, trying desperately not to disturb Scout. She tiptoed across the room, noticing a pile of weed and some papers on a magazine on the desk. That could explain the memory loss...right?  
She picked up her clothes carefully off the floor, slipping out of the room. She had never been so happy she hadn't worn a dress to an event. She pulled on her jeans and bunched her shirt up under her arm, deciding she would just wear Scout's shirt and return it later. She crept down the hall, grabbing her shoes and shoving them on her feet.  
"Hey," she heard and she looked over her shoulder. Scout was standing there with a slight look of amusement on her face.  
"Uh, hey," Kristen said slowly, running her hand through her hair.  
"You're certainly making a quick exit," Scout shifted on her feet.  
"Yeah. No. No, it's not..." Kristen cleared her throat. "I just have a thing I gotta go to."  
Scout nodded mockingly. "Right. A thing."  
Kristen finally got her foot in her shoe and she stood there awkwardly.  
"Nothing happened," Scout finally said. "We came home, smoked a j, then passed out. Honest."  
A wave of relief washed over her.  
"No, yeah. I know," she said. "I, uh, yeah. I had fun though."  
Scout laughed. "God, you're awkward as hell."  
Kristen felt her face get hot and she looked down at her shoes. "Yeah, it's my tragic flaw. Look, thanks for everything. I will, uh, see you later..." She trailed off wanting nothing else than a cigarette and to get the hell out of there. She really liked Scout but this whole thing was getting out of control. "I want that tshirt back," Scout said smiling.  
"Yeah totally. I will totally bring this back. Thanks." She waved slightly and ducked out the door.  
She took a deep breath, squinting in the sunlight. She walked for a little bit, feeling shaky and hung over, smoking a cigarette. She grabbed a cab and flung herself through her front door, finally feeling relaxed. She looked at her watch- it was only 7:30am. She felt her stomach lurch slightly and she groaned, heading slowly up the stairs and crashing in her bed. She closed her eyes, wanting sleep. A few hours later, she was jolted awake by her phone buzzing beside her and she whimpered looking at it. It was Dakota.  
"Hello?" She said groggily.  
"What the hell happened to you last night?" Dakota asked.  
"Huh?" Kristen asked, confused.  
"You called me at like 2am and started going on and on about how much you miss me and how sorry you are and that you wish things could be right between us..."  
Kristen's heart sank. _Oh, fucking fuck_, she thought.  
"Huh? Wha?" She stuttered.  
"You were with Scout," Dakota said, her voice filled with jealousy.  
"Yeah. I was, but I don't remember that."  
"Well, I'm not surprised. But you can't just do that, Kristen. You can't just get drunk and tell me all these things."  
"No, I know. I'm sorry."  
"Did you stay there?" Dakota asked, her voice sickly sweet.  
"Yeah," Kristen answered nonchalantly.  
"Oh, I see. So, you couldn't have your way with me so you went home with her instead?"  
Kristen's mouth fell open. "What?" She hissed.  
"You heard me. You couldn't get me to come home and jump in the sack with you so you run off to someone who would."  
"Dakota, nothing happened. And even if it did, why do you care? We're just friends, right?"  
They were quiet for a moment.  
"You know why I care," Dakota said meekly.  
"Do I?" Kristen asked.

There was silence.

"Look, I'm sorry I called you," Kristen said. "I shouldn't have done that."

"You're right. But, it's okay." If there was one thing Dakota couldn't do, it was stay mad at Kristen.

"I swear, _nothing_ happened with Scout."

"Okay," Dakota said. She didn't really want to talk about it anymore. "I'm sorry I flipped out on you. I was just…annoyed."

Kristen sighed. "This is shit," she said. "I hate this. I don't want to fight."

"We're not fighting," Dakota said softly. "We're just talking."

"Can I see you today?" Kristen asked.

Dakota smiled. "Yes. I can come over later. We can watch a movie."

"That is the best idea you've probably ever had."

"I heard Twilight is on TV tonight, maybe we could tune it?" Dakota said, stifling a laugh.

"Fuck off," Kristen said. "I'm pretty sure I have _Cat in the Hat_ on DVD, if you'd rather."

"Low blow," Dakota said. "But _Cat in the Hat_ is awesome and you know it."

Kristen laughed. "Yeah, it's pretty tripped out. Just get over here, okay?"

"Okay, I'll be over later."

They hung up and Kristen laid there, a smile on her face, though she was sort of embarrassed by her behaviour. She didn't like that she couldn't remember calling Dakota, or whether or not her and Scout hooked up. She was obviously more drunk than she thought last night. She made a mental note to watch herself next time, and sat up, grabbing her phone and texting Joan to see how she was. She already missed her, and it had only been a couple of hours.

* * *

Joan smiled as she opened a text from Kristen. She felt a little lost without plans to be on set for the first time in months. She wrote back quickly, then placed her phone back in her pocket. She ran her hand through her hair, smiling to herself, before pouring coffee into two mugs. She could hear Cherie coming down the stairs and she turned toward the doorway. Cherie walked through, a smile spreading across her face. She was wearing jeans and a Joan Jett and the Blackhearts tshirt. Joan laughed.

"Hey, nice shirt," she said, handing Cherie a cup of coffee.

Cherie smirked. "Oh, this ol' thing?"

They sat down at the kitchen table, the late morning beaming through the shutters.

"I can't believe we're done this whole thing," Joan mused, sipping her coffee.

"Well, there's still the L.A. and the New York premier. So, it's not over yet."

Joan nodded, smiling to herself.

"You know what I wish was in the movie?" Joan said aloud.

"What's that?" Cherie replied.

"That time we got arrested in England."

Cherie burst out laughing. "Oh, fuck! Yeah! I almost forgot about that. And you were in a different place than us, in that damn cell because you were of age, and you were screaming like a banshee for almost an hour to let you in with us. I'd never seen you like that!"

Joan laughed. "I was pissed, man. I was freaking the fuck out. Whata prick. I thought I was going to lose my mind! And then he finally was sick of hearing me screech and let me in with you. That was fucked up."

"And the drugs. Shit. I remember the moment I realized I had drugs on me, I thought I was going to die. I just…I can't explain what happened. I have no idea how the hell we got away with that."

Joan laughed. "Neither do I."

They sat there for a moment, both running through their memories.

"Hey Joanie?" Cherie said softly, sounding just like she did when she was 15.

"Mm?" Joan replied, snapping back to reality.

"I'm really glad you came home with me last night."

Joan smiled crookedly. "Yeah. Me too."

They locked eyes for a moment, both vividly remembering the night before. It was as if the tension between them finally boiled over and the only thing that seemed right was to be together, right then, right there. At first, Joan resisted. She wasn't sure if she could actually act on all those feelings she was having, but Cherie was not holding back this time and she finally gave in. Cherie had a way of pulling Joan into her, making her very hard to resist. She had this look, this longing stare that Joan was never able to break. Then Joan would smile her special smile and Cherie knew everything that was going through Joan's head in that moment. She couldn't keep it all bottled up anymore. The way Joan had been with her earlier that night had Cherie's head swimming and every time Joan's hand would rest on the small of her back, or around her hip, she just about melted. She decided she wouldn't fight this anymore. What's the worst that could happen? They'd been through it all before, and now that the film had wrapped, the risk of screwing that up had been eliminated.

Joan watched Cherie from across the table, a smirk still on her lips. "It was just as I remembered it," she said.  
"It was better," Cherie replied, flicking her eyebrows.

Joan laughed. "Maybe because now I know what I'm doin'."

"You always knew what you were doing, Joanie. Trust me."

They smiled at each other and Joan looked away bashfully. She took a sip of her coffee, a million things racing through her mind, but she felt incredibly calm.

* * *

"Move over," Kristen said, shoving Dakota's shoulder playfully.

"What! You have tons of room!" Dakota said, laughing.

"I would like to have more room please. Actually, yeah can you just sit on the floor? Thanks."

Dakota's mouth dropped open in fake astonishment. "Rude," she said.

"I'm just kidding. C'mere," Kristen said, pulling her closer. Dakota leaned into her side.

"See, that's not bad, huh?" Kristen said, smiling.

Dakota nodded, and they turned back to the movie. It was some action adventure film neither of them had seen and hadn't really been paying attention to. Kristen's arm was loosely draped around Dakota's shoulders and every so often her fingers would play with the sleeve of Dakota's tshirt, the sensation of which would make Dakota shiver. She pressed herself every so slightly closer against Kristen, her arm casually falling across her lap. Kristen swallowed, glancing sideways at her. The room was dark even though it was only 4 or 5 in the afternoon, but the drapes were pulled closed to eliminate the glare. The only light was coming from the flickering images on the TV. Kristen's breathing was shallow and she became increasingly nervous having Dakota so close to her. She knew she couldn't restrain herself for much longer.

"I'm gonna go get a drink," Kristen said, moving slightly. "You want something?"

Dakota shook her head and sat up.

Kristen headed to the kitchen, taking a deep breath. She blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the light, and she reached in the fridge and pulled out a can of Coke. She cracked it open, taking a sip. The coldness felt good sliding down the throat. She closed the fridge and headed back into the other room. Dakota had stolen her spot now.

"Hey," Kristen said. "You're in my seat."

Dakota shrugged. "You left."

A smile tugged at the corner's of Kristen's lips. "My house. I get to sit where I like."

"I'm your guest, so _I_ get to sit where I like."

Kristen laughed. "No way! I always sit there."

Dakota cross her arms. "Well, if you want to sit here, you're going to have to make me move."

"Is that a challenge?" Kristen asked, flicking her eyebrows.

Dakota stuck out her tongue. Kristen placed her drink on the coffee table and stood in front of Dakota.

"Please can I sit here?" she asked sweetly.

Dakota peered up at Kristen coyly. "You're blocking the TV."

Kristen smirked. "Dakota," she warned.

"Yes?" Dakota answered sweetly.

"I _will_ wrestle you for the seat."

"No you won't," Dakota replied.

Kristen leaned forward. "Yes, I will." She launched herself at Dakota, trying to wiggle her way in between her and the end of the couch, forcing her to move over. She knew it was childish, but they were clearly playing a little game.

Dakota yelped and pushed back, their arms flailing, grabbing each other. They were laughing through gritted teeth, both stubborn enough to actually fight over this. Kristen finally climbed on top of Dakota, straddling her and pinned her arms back. Their faces were inches apart.

"What you gonna do now, punk?" Kristen asked, smirking playfully.

Dakota glared at her, trying to figure out how to win. She pushed forward slightly and kissed Kristen, taking her by surprise. Kristen pulled away quickly, but only for a moment, before pressing her lips against Dakota's again, her hands still pinning back her arms. Her head was screaming at her, telling her to stop, but her body ignored it. It felt too good.

They kissed for a few minutes, Kristen grinding her hips slightly against Dakota's, trying more than anything to take this slow. She let got of Dakota's arms and leaned them against the back of the couch. She pulled away, looking down at her, both of them slightly out of breath.

"Shit," Kristen said.

"Yeah," Dakota replied. "That was a bad idea."

Kristen smiled. "Or was it the best fucking idea we've ever had?"

Dakota stared up at her, fighting the smile that was spreading across her face. "Kristen," she whispered.

"I know. I know," Kristen replied. "But, c'mon. You can't deny that."

Dakota shook her head. "Am I supposed to like this?" Dakota asked. "Because I do. But everything inside me says it's a bad idea, but then…this…" Dakota placed her hands lightly on Kristen's waist.

Kristen wrapped her arms loosely around Dakota's shoulders. "It's totally wrong," Kristen said. "Which makes it totally hot."

Dakota giggled. "It_ is_ wrong though. You're way too old for me."

Kristen laughed. "Hey man, not my fault."

They sat there for a moment longer, pressed against each other, a familiar tingling in their stomachs that made them both nervous and excited.

Kristen sighed, tearing herself off of Dakota and sitting next to her.

"The way I see it," she began. "Is that we have two options. One, we just run with this and make out or two, we stop seeing each other all together."

Dakota laughed. "Really? Those are our only options?"

Kristen nodded. "Clearly, we can't just be friends because every time we try that, we end up kissing or fighting or wanting to claw our own faces off because it's so torturous. So, we should just stop hanging out."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. But. I don't want to do that," she moved closer, putting her hand on Dakota's face. "I wanna to this," she kissed her again.

Dakota pulled away. "Wait a second. So either, I have to make out with you or else we can't be friends?"

Kristen laughed. "Essentially, yes."

Dakota frowned. "What if I don't want to make out with you?"

"Dakota, do you want to make out with me?" Kristen asked with a straight face.

A smile played on Dakota's lips and she tried to hide it.

"That's what I thought. So. What's it gonna be, Fanning? Are you in or are you out?"

Dakota thought for a moment about all the possible consequences. But when she looked right into Kristen's familiar face, none of that seemed to matter.

"Fuck it," she said in her sweet, innocent voice, and threw her arms around Kristen's neck, pushing her backwards, and kissing her like she's never kissed anyone before.


	20. Chapter 20 SelfPreservation Instincts

The flashes were nearly blinding. The sound of camera shutters clicking sounded like a swarm of bees around their heads. Kristen hated this. They screamed her name, begging for her attention. She stood there, hands on her hips, half smiling, half trying not to look like she was in pain. She shifted on her feet awkwardly, cursing her heels. Sure, they looked beautiful but they hurt like hell. She felt entirely too obvious, dressed in pink, standing on the red carpet of the first major premier of _The Runaways_. Why couldn't this be like Sundance, where she could wear skinny jeans and Vans on the red carpet? No, it had to be a fucking pink designer dress. She knew she looked beautiful but she just felt so anxious.

She glanced beside her slightly, watching Dakota stand there, looking flawlessly calm and collected. She looked so happy, so relaxed as the photographers shouted her name. She looked at them like she actually gave a shit who said it. But on the inside she was nervous as hell. She wished she was standing closer to Kristen, clinging to her. That would make her feel safer, calmer. It was the only thing that made her feel normal.

Finally they made their way towards each other and without hesitation, hugged each other, gripping tight for only a moment, though neither wanted to let go. They heard the rapid clicking of camera go mental as they stood together, an arm draped around each other's waist.

"I hate this," Kristen said through a fake smile, loud enough for only Dakota to hear.

"You look perfect," Dakota said reassuringly.

Kristen laughed. "So do you." She tightened her grip around Dakota's tiny waist. She never wanted to let go of her.

They finally made it to the end of the carpet and quickly walked inside. Kristen let out a huge breath. She wanted a cigarette. She held out her hand and watched as it trembled slightly.

"Calm down," Dakota said, taking it in her own. "It's over now."

"Until we get to New York," she said, rolling her eyes. But she felt a sense of calmness fall over her as they stood there, holding hands.

Joan and Cherie walked up to them, beaming smiles across both their faces.

"That was fantastic! Oh my God, you two look absolutely stunning!" Cherie said, hugging them both.

"Yeah, you girls clean up nice," Joan added, smiling.

Kristen cocked her head slightly, admiring the two of them. "So do you. Damn."

Joan smiled and Kristen couldn't help but do the same.

"Are you happy?" Kristen asked her.

"I'm fuckin' over the moon, man," Joan replied.

"Good. Then so am I."

Joan laughed and pulled Kristen into a hug.

"Can I talk to you a sec?" She asked.

Kristen nodded. "Sure, no problem." She turned to Dakota and told her she'd be right back.

Joan and Kristen walked together for a moment.

"So, how ya doin?" Joan asked in her casual, familiar way.

Kristen smiled. "I'm great. Is everything alright?"

Joan nodded. "No yeah, everything fine. Totally copasetic," she smiled. "I just wanted to make sure everything was alright with _you_."

Kristen frowned. "Yeah, Joan. Everything's good. Really good, actually."

Joan nodded. "Good. That's good. And…Dakota?"

Kristen smiled slightly. "She's…fine? What do you mean?"

Joan stopped, and turned to face Kristen.

"I've just noticed there's something…different about you two; the way you interact with each other. Something happened, didn't it?"

Kristen shrugged. "No," she said nonchalantly.

"Kristen, you're a horrible liar."

Kristen's mouth fell open slightly before breaking in a smile. "Alright. Look, it's nothing, really. But, we kind of took things to, uh, another level recently."

"What kind of level?" Joan asked suspiciously.

"A very innocent one," Kristen reassured her.

"How recently?"

Kristen laughed. "Well, since just after the wrap party."

Joan's eyes widened. "That was over a month ago."

Kristen nodded slowly, teetering on her heels. God, she wished she could just take these off already!

"So, you two are…"

"Friends," Kristen said. "With benefits," she added, smirking.

"Well, fuck," Joan said, running her fingers through her hair. "I knew it."

"Really? Because we've been trying to keep it on the down-low. And you haven't seen much of us together lately."

"You're right, but whenever you and I talk, she's all you can talk about. And seeing you together tonight…it just kind of clicked. I know the look that you give her, and the one she gives you. Because I used to give that look to Cherie all the time. Hell, I still do!" She laughed.

Kristen bit her lip. "It's that obvious, huh?"

"Like a fuckin' elephant," Joan replied.

They both laughed.

"I'm not in love with her," Kristen said quickly.

"I never said you were," Joan answered. "But you do love her?"

Kristen nodded. "I adore her."

Joan threw her arm around Kristen's shoulders. "Well, kid, I guess you just gotta figure this one out."

Kristen sighed. "Yeah. I know."

"But, keep your goddamn hands in your own pants for a little while, would you? She is just _so fucking young_."

Kristen laughed, covering her mouth in embarrassed astonishment at that statement. "Yeah, Joan. Shit. Don't remind me. And anyway, it's not like that."

Joan shook her head. "Oh, please. You and I both know it's exactly like that."

Kristen looked down at the ground, feeling her cheeks get warm. She bit her lip. "Am I an awful human being?" she asked quietly.

Joan laughed. "Oh Jesus, Stewart. Don't get all philosophical on me now!" She pulled her in for a hug, smiling down at her. "Look, just keep it PG, alright? Nobody said anything about a little kissin'."

Kristen smiled weakly. "I can't believe we're fucking talking about this right now."

"Believe it, baby," Joan replied.

Kristen looked at Joan and smiled. "I fuckin love you, Joan," she said.

Joan smiled that familiar, Joan Jett smile. "I love you too, kid."

The evening felt like it would never end. Kristen's leg was bouncing as she sat in the dark theatre, her arm resting against Dakota's. She glanced sideways at Dakota repeatedly, wishing they could get the hell out of there already. She felt claustrophobic or something, sitting in the theatre with all these other people – critics, mostly – and she wanted nothing more than to bed at home. But, that was not going to happen any time soon. Her leg bounced nervously and Dakota finally put her hand firmly on Kristen's knee.

"That is so annoying," she whispered.

Kristen looked at her, chewing on her fingertip. "Sorry," she whispered back.

Dakota retreated her hand but Kristen grabbed it quickly, and tucked it in her lap.

Dakota smiled, feeling Kristen's fingers curl around hers and she relaxed slightly in her seat, watching the rest of the movie.

Later that evening Kristen found herself in Dakota's hotel room, fighting with herself to do as Joan said – keep her damn hands to herself. The two them were sitting innocently on the edge of the bed, kissing. Kristen was fighting every cell in her body not to throw Dakota down and have her way. But, she knew better. There were rules about this sort of thing. She wasn't sure exactly how much experience Dakota had here and she didn't want to seem pushy. This was like a bad after school special.

Dakota slipped her hands under Kristen's shirt, making her shiver. Kristen smiled against her mouth. She could tell Dakota was edging closer and closer to the line that, once crossed, could change everything.

Kristen grabbed Dakota's wandering hand and gently pulled it away from her body. She placed it back in Dakota's lap, and they continued to kiss innocently. Dakota's hand slowly travelled up Kristen's leg this time and Kristen nearly gave in completely. But she knew this couldn't happen.

"Dakota," she said, laughing.

"What?" Dakota replied innocently.

Kristen just looked at her.

"Is there a problem?" Dakota asked, smirking.

"Keep your hands to yourself," Kristen said.

Dakota scoffed. "I can't do that anymore," she said sweetly.

Kristen clenched her jaw, taking a deep breath. "We can't…do _that_," Kristen emphasized.

"Why not?"

"You know why not."

"But maybe I want to."

Kristen's face fell and she looked at Dakota very seriously. "Do you have any idea what that entails?"

Dakota frowned, not liking the change in mood. "Uh, yeah. I know what sex is, Kristen."

"It's not about that. It's, like, a million different things. I mean, first of all our age difference, second of all it's not just sex, Dakota. It's…girl sex."

Dakota burst out laughing. "Oh my God, Kristen. Lighten up would you?"

"I'm serious! It's totally different."

"Oh, and I suppose _you_ are an expert on the matter?"

Kristen blushed. When it came to this, she in fact, was just as green as Dakota.

"Well, n-no, I guess not but…"

"Exactly," Dakota interrupted, moving closer. "So why don't we just…" she kissed Kristen again, draping her arms over her shoulder. She didn't understand Kristen's hang ups about this.

Kristen unlocked Dakota's arms and pulled away. "Dakota, this isn't just an impulse thing. We can't just do it."

Dakota frowned. "I thought that was the whole point of it. Impulsive. Lust. Sex," she said, letting it linger on her tongue.

"Is that all this is?" Kristen asked softly.

Dakota put her hands on Kristen's legs. "I thought that we understood that. I mean, I love you Kristen, I do, but as my best friend. The fact that we are doing this is just…well, a bonus. You don't have to worry about me falling in love with you."

Kristen fought a smile. "You make me sound fucking arrogant," she said.

"I don't mean to," Dakota leaned against Kristen. "Please, let's just try taking this a little bit further, huh?" she held her lips just inches away.

Kristen swallowed, smelling Dakota's perfume. It made her dizzy. She couldn't resist this, no matter how wrong or weird it was. Dakota knew exactly how to tempt her.

Kristen grabbed Dakota's hips, their mouths crashing together and she pushed her backward against the bed, slithering against her. Dakota giggled, surprised at Kristen's reaction.

"Dakota," Kristen breathed, kissing her neck. "I don't want this to be weird."

"Shut the fuck up already!" Dakota said loudly, smiling. "Just stop talking." She kissed her hard, loving the feeling of Kristen's weight on top of her, wanting nothing more than to experience something new with her.

Kristen felt Dakota's hand creep down her body. She shut her eyes in anticipation but a wave of panic washed over her and she jolted away.

"What? Sorry! Did I-" Dakota stuttered.

"W-we can't do this," Kristen said quickly. "We totally cannot go through with this."

Dakota groaned and put her hands over her face.

"It's just that…shit. We can't. I'm sorry. Something isn't right."

"Everything is right, Kristen!" Dakota yelled. "Everything is right and you know it! Doesn't this feel good? Doesn't this just feel so…easy?"

Kristen sighed, understanding Dakota's frusteration. "I can't stop thinking that this might fuck everything up. I mean, it could change everything."

"We already changed everything the first time we kissed. And the second time. And all the times after that. I want you, Kristen. Don't you see that? Do you know how it feels to get rejected again and again by you? It sucks. It really fucking sucks."

Kristen frowned. "I'm not rejecting you. I-I'm not trying to hurt your feelings. It's just…this is really complicated."

"Yeah. I know. But you can't just give in to me and then pull away. You asked me if I was in or if I was out and I showed you that I was in. But now, I don't think you want this anymore. I don't understand what's stopping you?"

Kristen sat up and looked down at Dakota. "You're so innocent," she said softly.

"No, I'm not! Just because I'm young doesn't mean you're going to be robbing me of some kind of weird attachment to my childhood. I'm all grown up, now. You know that I'm ready."

"Maybe I'm not ready," Kristen said. She choked on her words and coughed slightly, clearing her throat.

They were quiet for a moment. Kristen scanned Dakota's face, trying to read her thoughts, but she couldn't decode them. Dakota stared back at Kristen, noticing the anguish on her face, wishing more than anything she could truly understand what the hell went on behind those gorgeous green eyes.

"Okay," Dakota said, putting her hand over Kristen's. She sighed, shrugging. "Okay." She pulled at her arm and Kristen lied down next to her, putting her arm over her body. They lied there for a moment just listening to the sound of each other breathing.

"I really do love you, Kristen."

Kristen smiled. "I really do love you too, Dakota."

They were quiet for a little while longer. Kristen's head was racing with a thousand different thoughts. She wished more than anything she could get over whatever was holding her back from Dakota, but she just couldn't. Something just kept reeling over and over in her head that it was one thing to flirt with her and kiss her, but it was quite another to actually fuck her. She didn't like to think of it in those terms, but that's what it would be. They weren't in love, they just felt a mutual attraction to each other. _Just like Joan and Cherie did_, Kristen told herself again and again. But a sinking feeling came over her, a daunting realization. Maybe the reason she wasn't willing to do this was because she actually _did_ have real feelings for Dakota. She'd had meaningless sex before – just lustful, impulsive sex that was nothing more and nothing less. It didn't feel like this. Somehow she knew that if they were to take this to the next level, someone would get hurt, and her self-preservation instincts were kicking in, making sure that she wasn't the one left with the bruises.

She sighed, pressing herself closer into Dakota.

"I'm sorry I can't be what you want me to be," she whispered.

Dakota stirred slightly, turning to look at Kristen. "You are exactly what I want you to be. You're my best friend." She smiled and kissed her cheek.

Kristen slid her hand between Dakota's fragile fingers and squeezed it. "I should go back to my room. It's getting kind of late."

Dakota licked her lips. "You can stay here," she said gently.

Kristen smiled. She wanted to stay here, curled next to her warm body. "You sure?"

Dakota nodded.

And with that, Kristen slipped out of her jeans, leaving her only in a tshirt and her underwear. She pulled the covers over herself and relaxed into the bed, feeling suddenly very tired.

Dakota's heartbeat quickened slightly as she realized the two of them would be in less clothing than they ever had been around each other before. She got up and changed, feeling slightly obvious that Kristen was watching her. She climbed back into the bed, wearing a tank top and a pair of boxers.

Kristen moved close to her. "Goodnight," she said.

Dakota smiled. "Goodnight."

Kristen leaned over and kissed Dakota softly, before rolling over. Dakota wanted to wrap her arms around her but she stopped herself, knowing that whatever was going on between them had to slow down. She could sense underlying tension between them and she didn't want to disturb it. But as she began to drift off to sleep, she felt Kristen's hand grab her own ever so softly and a sleepy smile pulled at her lips, as she felt herself finally relax.


	21. Chapter 21 One Look, One Smile

**A/N: Well, this is the last chapter. I've been writing this for what seems like forever and I think that it's kind of a natural point to end it. Thanks for all the awesome comments and I hope you have enjoyed this! It was fun to write for sure. If you haven't seen it already, watch _The Runaways_ asap! **

Kristen stood outside on the balcony smoking, gazing out into the New York skyline. She was waiting for Dakota to get ready before they headed out for dinner with Joan and Cherie. The New York premiere had gone smoothly and she was feeling a little melancholic that all of this was actually over. She smiled to herself as she thought about specific memories, like the first day on set and the night they all went out for drinks. She ran her fingers through her hair, realizing that her natural light brown had almost completely washed out the jet black it used to be. She was going to miss being Joan Jett. She was going to miss everything.

Dakota waltzed out on to the balcony and Kristen turned, her eyes scanning her entire body. She was wearing tight black skinny jeans and ankle boots, a loose-fitting tank top and a brown leather jacket. She looked adorable. Kristen smiled.

"Hey you," she said, exhaling, and stubbing her cigarette out.

"Hey," Dakota replied.

"You look nice," Kristen said. She looked down at her own attire: a black and white checker shirt, jeans and black sneakers. "Especially compared to me."

Dakota laughed. "I like what you're wearing," she said. "You look…like you."

Kristen rolled her eyes. "Oh good," she said.

Dakota had a silver chain around her neck. Kristen thought it looked too subtle, blending in with the rest of her outfit instead of standing out. She took a step closer, sliding off a ring on her index finger; the one she bought in Australia. She held it out for Dakota to see, before putting her arms around her neck and unclasping the necklace, carefully sliding the ring down the chain, watching as it fell to the centre. She smiled and Dakota just watched as she gingerly put it back around her neck.

"That's better," Kristen whispered.

Dakota smiled and her fingers slid down the chain. She looked down at the small, silver ring and stuck the tip of her finger through it before letting it drop down against her chest.

"I love it," she said.

Kristen put her hands on Dakota's hips. "Keep it," she said.

Dakota hesitated before breaking into her familiar, beaming smile. She hugged Kristen, breathing in her smoky scent. She was going to miss these moments with her.

Kristen pulled back, pushing her hair out of her face. She stared at Dakota, scanning her face, looking for some kind of indication about how she was feeling.

"Okay?" she asked softly.

Dakota nodded, leaning forward slightly on her toes and kissing Kristen.

"Always," she said softly, before pulling away, letting her hands linger in Kristen's.

"I guess we should go, huh?" Dakota asked.

Kristen paused for a moment. "Yeah, I guess we should."

Dakota let her hand fall out of Kristen's and she walked back through the room. Kristen sighed, putting her cigarettes into her pocket and following her, wishing more than anything that this didn't have to end. But, nothing this good can last forever.

This was the last night the four of them - Kristen, Dakota, Joan and Cherie- would be together for a long time. They sat in a small, dimly lit restaurant somewhere in between Soho and Greenwich Village. They were talking animatedly, laughing, recounting their antics on set. Dakota looked around the table and smiled to herself. She felt strangely like a little family sitting there, sipping green tea. She was going to miss having Joan's strong influence around her everyday, and Cherie's warm smile and throaty laugh. But most of all she would miss Kristen. Her chest ached at the fact that they would be separated for awhile, each off on their own projects until they were inevitably reunited on the set of one of the many films they had in common. But even so, it would never be like _The Runaways_ was. It will never be day-in, day-out contact. It will never be the same, and Dakota knew that was the inevitable truth for them. It all had to end at some point.

Kristen's hand found its way across Dakota's leg under the table. She was feeling insecure about what lied ahead and the one thing that always made her feel balanced was touching Dakota. Just having their bodies attached in any way made her feel calmer instantly. It was almost bizarre how it worked, but Kristen had come to rely on this and the thought of being apart made her anxious. The worst realization for her also was that it would never be the same between them - it couldn't. They had to end this thing, whatever this thing was, because it was the only logical option. Their days together living in their little blissful bubble were numbered.

Joan and Cherie had the same problem. Of course, it was nothing new for them. But their rekindled friendship had sparked something in both if them that made them realize that being apart again would be strange. Cherie had once again become accustomed to Joan's presence - the sound of her voice, her laugh, the feeling of her hands against her body. It hasn't taken long to get used to her again. Joan was like your favourite book: you never forget all the details, but when you read it again it's still just as wonderful as always, if not more. Everything about Joan was like a memory for Cherie, but it also felt so new; like they had picked up where they left off and yet started fresh all at once. Cherie didn't want to part ways, but she lived in California, and Joan lived in New York. There were thousands of miles between them, and even more responsibilities.

"Stay in New York for a bit," Joan had suggested earlier that day. "Just a few days, maybe a week."  
Cherie smiled "Joanie," she said, just as she always did. "You know I can't do that. I have to go home, I have to see Jake!"  
"He's alright without you for a few more days. He's 16! He'll be alright."  
Cherie sighed. "It's not that I don't want to. I do, believe me. It doesn't feel right to leave things between us, but you and I both have things that keep us away from each other now that the movie's done. At least this time it's on good terms," she smiled weakly. "And you've got a couple shows coming up in California don't you? We'll see each other then."  
Joan nodded. "Maybe you can sing a couple songs with me again, like we did at Sundance."  
Cherie grinned. "I would love to."  
Joan walked over to Cherie and crouched down in front of her, resting her arms casually on her legs. She peered up into her familiar face, staring into her baby blue eyes. "I am so happy." Joan said, smiling.  
Cherie draped her arms over Joan's shoulders. "Me too, Joanie."  
Joan leaned forward slightly and kissed Cherie softly. Everything felt still, but in a good way. Last time they had said goodbye, it felt as though their worlds had been flipped upside down, turning them into strangers. But now they felt closer to each other than perhaps they ever had, sharing something new that was positive instead of the drug infused, chaotic and exhausting life of a teenage rock star. It felt now, for the first time in a long time, that everything was exactly as it should be.

Later, as the four of them sat around the table, they each spoke with such candid ease, feeling totally and completely comfortable with each other. It was almost if they always knew each other, as they had always been this way. Kristen thought about the first time she met Joan, how nervous she was and how intimidated she had originally been by Joan's tough exterior. But, she smiled now, gazing into Joan's soft, brown eyes, realizing that she was probably the most honest, genuine, caring person she had ever met. And Cherie, who had been through so much and who stood on stage like a lioness, roaring like the queen of the jungle, was just a normal, California girl at heart who had grown up way too fast. Kristen smiled as she watched Joan and Cherie interact, the way that their movements were so in sync, so fluid with one another it was almost as if they were one. Kristen examined the look on Joan's face as she watched Cherie speak, always a tiny smile playing on her lips. And as Dakota responded, Kristen turned to look at her, not realizing that she was giving her the exact same look.

Dakota could feel Kristen's eyes on her and she liked it, knowing that nothing else was distracting her from this. Kristen's squeezed her knee inconspicuously and Dakota shifted slightly, a smile sneaking into her voice. She paused, glancing over a Kristen, who flicked her eyebrows at her, taking a sip of her drink as if nothing had happened.

"Anyways," Dakota continued. "I guess I am just really going to miss you guys." She smiled, though there was some melancholy to it.

Cherie put her hand over Dakota's across the table. "We are going to miss you, as well. I can't believe this is the last time we'll all be together. For awhile at least."

Kristen looked into her drink. She didn't like getting to sentimental, though she always hated ending a film, and this one was no exception.

Joan looked at Kristen, studying the look on her face. She had gotten to know Kristen's expressions pretty well over the past year. Just as Kristen had studied Joan, Joan had studied Kristen. She smiled to herself, knowing Kristen's look as that of discomfort.

"Kristen," Joan said, getting her attention. "What are you going to do after you go back home to LA?"

Kristen shrugged. "Sleep," she said.

Joan laughed. "That sounds nice."

Dakota put her arm around the back of Kristen's chair. "Except that you never have time to sleep." She said, smiling.

Kristen sighed. "I know. I'm going to try, though. I actually have, like, 2 weeks off so, I mean, I won't really have an excuse."

Cherie looked at the two of them, seeing so much of her relationship with Joan in their interactions with each other. "Are you going to see each other while you're both in LA?"

They both looked at Cherie, then each other, a smile playing on their lips.

"Sure," Kristen said. "But she's probably fuckin' sick of me now."

Dakota laughed, her cheeks going pink. "Yeah. I am, like, _so_ glad this is over so I don't have to hang out with her all the time," she said sarcastically.

Kristen poked her in the ribs and Dakota giggled. "No, we'll probably see each other all the time just out of habit," Dakota added.

They all sat there smiling at each other for a moment, a thousand different memories filtering in and out of their minds. Joan looked over at Cherie, who smiled and winked. She looked back over across the table. Kristen was leaned over into Dakota, whispering something into her ear. Joan smiled, admiring their friendship.

"I don't want to leave this place," Kristen whispered.

Dakota smiled. "Me neither." She looked over at Kristen and tilted her head, smiling.

Kristen sat back in her chair, feeling giddy and foolish because she couldn't stop smiling.

"I love you guys," Kristen said, looking at first at Joan, then Cherie, then Dakota. "Honestly, this has been the best fucking time I've had in awhile."

Joan put up her glass. "To _The Runaways_," she said. They all clinked glasses, taking a sip of their drinks and smiled to themselves, committing absolutely everything to memory.

**4 Months Later**

Kristen was standing around talking with Rob and Taylor, smoking a cigarette. She was feeling tired today and regretting staying out all night, but it was nice to be reunited with some familiar faces. Rob leaned in close to her and she was hit in the face with his cologne, which she always liked, but she noticed how different it seemed now.

"I'm fuckin' freezing, woman. Hurry up will you?" he smiled that charming, British smile of his and she nodded, taking one last drag before dropping her cigarette on the ground, stomping it out with her foot. They started walking back into the studio, about to start shooting yet another instalment of their now infamous film franchise. They sat around, discussing the staging. Kristen stretched in her chair, cracking her knuckles. She felt her eyes drooping and took a deep breathing, hoping to snap back awake.

"Tired?" Taylor whispered beside her.

She smiled and nodded. "Always."

He put his arm around her and pulled her against him for a moment. He was so strong and she couldn't help but notice that she felt incredible weak beside him. She giggled and he let go.

She glanced over at Rob who smiled crookedly and she bit her lip. It had been awhile since they'd seen each other and she didn't realize how much she'd missed him until now. She'd missed everyone, and she felt like she had been catapulted into another world while she was working on _The Runaways_, but now she was back in reality, becoming her most famous persona once again. She sighed, looking at her watch. She felt her stomach lurch as she realized what time it was. Dakota was supposed to be here any minute and her heart sped up in anxious anticipation. She smiled to herself as she realized this reaction and looked over her shoulder at the door, which swung open revealing a very happy looking Dakota. They locked eyes instantly and Kristen felt the most incredible sense of calmness fall over her. She turned around, leaving the conversation she was having with Rob and Taylor, walking right towards Dakota. Kristen threw her arms around her instantly, feeling like they were the only two people in the room, and she desperately wished they actually were.

"Hi," Dakota said sweetly. "How are you?" she looked around and waved at the boys.

"Better now," Kristen said, running her hand through her messy brown hair. She looked at Dakota and fought everything inside of her not to kiss her right there on the spot. But, it wasn't like that any more between them. They had ended it maturely, like adults. They knew that it had to be done, and it was. Kristen thought it was actually getting better and she hadn't thought about Dakota nearly as much as she had at first, but seeing her again for the first time in weeks made all those feelings come rushing back.

"Have you talked to Joan lately?" Dakota asked.

Kristen nodded. "Yeah, sort of the other day. She's really busy with touring and stuff right now. But she's good. Really good."

Dakota smiled. "That's great!" she said. They looked at each other for a moment and then both burst into a laugh. They didn't know what was so funny. Maybe it was the fact that things were so different now, or that they were both thinking and wanting the exact same thing, but either way, they had a special moment between them that they hadn't had in what felt like ages. The familiarity of each other presence was overwhelming and they couldn't help but get lost in it.

As they stood with the rest of the cast, discussing the agenda for the day, they both snuck glances at each other. It felt different now, but somehow still exactly the same. Though they knew they couldn't act on their feelings anymore, there was still a spark between them that they both held on to, playing with the boundaries of their friendship. Kristen smiled and Dakota got that familiar fuzzy feeling in her stomach that made her feel like there was a secret between them that Kristen was reminding her of. She grinned back, looking away shyly, trying to appear like she was paying attention. But, as they looked at each other again, they knew absolutely everything that was going through each other's mind. This intense connection between them would never fade, just as any true friendship never fades. Although their romantic relationship had ended now, it was something they would always share; a secret that only they could tell each other. And as they stood there now, they just gazed at each other, saying, much like Joan and Cherie, everything that needed to be said with just one look and just one smile.


End file.
